


Paper Faces

by JSinister32



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Best Friends, Beverly ships it with force if necessary, Fluff, Fluffy With Murder, Freddie Lounds is still the worst, Halloween, Happy Ending, Hunting, M/M, Masquerade, Murder Husbands, Mutual Pining, Porn With Plot, Slow Burn, Tags May Change, Texting, Will Needs a Psychiatrist, Will and Hannibal Cook Together, Will hates shopping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:09:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 118,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25279810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JSinister32/pseuds/JSinister32
Summary: Will Graham, professor and sometimes profiler for the FBI, meets the attractive new Behavioral Sciences forensic psychologist, Hannibal Lecter.  By chance, Will is roped into attending the annual Halloween black tie event for the bureau, only because it's a masquerade.  When a mysterious mask arrives for him to don and the charming doctor offers to be his date, will he be able to hold onto the routine he so desperately clings to, or will he finally find a reason to let go?(Slight AU, tags may change)
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 187
Kudos: 356





	1. Invitation

_If you think adventure is dangerous,_   
_Try routine; It is lethal._   
_-Paulo Coelho_

* * *

Will Graham was nothing if not a creature of habit. His life was so predictable, he could put a time stamp on every activity of his day. Each morning at 6:15AM sharp, he got up and fed his dogs before making himself his first cup of coffee of the day. That cup propelled him into his shower where he washed his skin in automatic, functional movements. He hadn’t deviated from his personal hygiene product selection in more than a decade, so each scent was as familiar as an old sweater and easily recognizable, even with his eyes closed, which was something he often did while showering. Once clean, he selected something nondescript from his closet and drawers to cover his skin, the only variance being different shades of blue, green and khaki and thicknesses for fluctuating temperatures during the year. Once dressed, he ran a comb through his unruly hair (coincidentally the most unpredictable thing in his life), brushed his teeth and poured himself a second cup of coffee; this one black and contained within a travel mug for his drive. Ensuring his dogs had enough water for the day, he would pick up his briefcase and leave the house, locking the door behind him and tugging twice to ensure the lock engaged. He would then get into his car and drive to the campus of the Bureau campus, located in Baltimore, Maryland, where he spent his days giving lectures on psychological pathologies and the scientific approach to crime scenes to those working within the Behavioral Sciences unit. During his non-lecturing hours, he filled his days with perusing the cases currently being handled within their department so he could better tailor his classes to relevant matters.

Once his days concluded, he left his office, stopping twice a week to pick up groceries and other necessary supplies, before driving home to his dogs. He sometimes worked on fishing lures for the weekend trips he liked to take or on occasion picked up a novel, but it was rare. Most nights were spent preparing meals for the week, writing lectures, and following the normal routines of any single adult male with any sense of responsibility. He went to bed by 10:30 every evening to ensure his rest was sufficient for the work ahead of him, and most nights, he fell into a such a deep slumber, it’s as if he died. The next morning, the day before repeated itself in an endless loop of perfect orchestration, varying as infrequently and as little as possible. Will liked his neat, ordered world exactly as it was. He enjoyed the routine, reveled in the way his days ran like a well oiled machine. It helped him keep his focus off the days he was asked to put his very specific gifts to use; working crime scenes that all the minds of the FBI couldn’t crack. He was brought into the field rarely, under very special circumstances, and only as a last resort, which was exactly how he liked it. Each scene took something from him that he was never able to recover, something that made him less of the man he was before he was there. His track record for solved cases was, however, unmatched by any other member of the Behavioral Sciences team. Each time he was called in, the case was resolved within days. Because of this, there are those within the Bureau that have attempted to persuade him to take a more active role within his unit; odd gifts and promises were common, the hint that he could have any office of his choosing happened with such frequency, it was a wonder he hadn’t already been moved. On each occurrence, he adamantly refused, stating simply that he was not required for every case and it would be a waste of his time and talent to be brought in if not absolutely necessary. 

During the meetings he had with his superiors, he never mentioned that he was still trying to find a new therapist. It hadn’t been long since his last one asked him in no uncertain terms to never return. The graphic images he imprinted on her mind were giving her bad dreams. He couldn’t blame her, not really, but being unable to unburden his psyche was not helping his proclivity for inner self destruction, nor did it help his insomnia when he was put on a case. Instead, he continued to refuse unnecessary cases and empty promises, keeping his life simple, comfortable, and, most of all, predictable.

That particular Monday, the day that began the catalyst of events that would change the course of his life forever, had started off much as every other day. The minor changes he made to it became moments Will later carefully dissected, assigning blame to them in earnest for their part to play in the disruptions to his life. For example, when he finished showering, instead of towel drying his body and moving on with his day, he happened to glance in the mirror, his gaze more assessing than usual that early in the week. He ran a hand across his jaw, frowning. _Too long._ He glanced at the clock on the phone before returning his gaze to the mirror. _I_ _’ve got time. May as well cut it now. Save me from having to do it midweek._ He trimmed his facial hair down to an attractive five o’clock shadow that accentuated his strong jawline. _Better. More comfortable, too. May have to switch up my shaving days._ He combed his hair until it fell in soft curls around his handsome face, giving him the appearance of an attractive professor; a man comfortable in his own skin, bright eyed with an easy smile. The wild disarray graced his forehead, the curls soft and touchable, as if someone had just run their fingers through them. _Hmm. Perhaps change isn_ _’t so bad._ His bathroom routine completed, Will hung his towel and moved to the bedroom to dress.

Happy with his appearance at last, he took longer than normal in selecting his clothing. Disregarding his usual selection of nondescript clothing, he instead chose charcoal grey dress slacks, enjoying the feel of the fine material as it encased his legs. The shirt he selected was equally fine, a pale grey dress shirt he saved primarily for special occasions and court appearances. To relax the formality of the look, he wore no tie, but instead opened a button at his throat, rolling up the sleeves to showcase his forearms. He donned his usual glasses and took with him the matching grey jacket, as well as his heavier overcoat. The weather had just begun to take on the biting cold of fall, and the last thing he needed was to be caught outside without something to keep him warm. He slipped on his watch and a pair of shiny but comfortable dress shoes and filled his coffee mug for the ride to the office. Continuing with the theme of the day, he added a splash of cream to the cup before screwing down the lid, inhaling the deep, rich scent as it mixed with the cream. Grabbing his briefcase and keys, he made it out the door with no further thought to his choices. They felt right, and that was all that mattered.

The drive was uneventful, and when he arrived at the Bureau, it felt like any other day. He put his things away in his office, storing the lunch he prepared over the weekend in the mini refrigerator underneath his desk. Will made a habit of being careful what he put into his body, and so he preparing most meals himself, much to the jealous delight of his coworkers. They loved to either try and steal what he prepared or pestered him until he caved and cooked for them, which he did with some regularity. Today’s meal was particularly special; it was the last of the venison loin he had smoked during the weekend, the rich flavor of the meat accented with the sweet notes of hickory he used for the smoking process. He had been hard pressed to find peace any time he brought in fresh game; his coworkers rarely stepped out of their comfort zone with any type of meat they weren’t familiar with, but he had cooked enough of it for them over the years that it was one of his most highly sought after and pilfered meals before he acquired the mini fridge. Once his meal was safely stowed, he hung his coat and suit jacket behind the door, collected his lecture notes, then made his way to the hall where he would be speaking for the next hour. 

As he set up his files on the projector, Will allowed the quiet of the hall to fill him with the nervous excitement he always experienced before a lecture. In all the years he had been teaching his techniques to the finest minds in the country, the knowledge that he had the opportunity to do so, aware that he could make such an impact on the people who used what he taught to the best of their abilities, never failed to take his breath. The room, although empty of other people, held an air of anticipation, as if the words he would speak would be forever imprinted somewhere within the walls, imparting inspiration for generations to come. The thought always made him a little nervous. Everything he did felt important, and large or small, he would ensure he provided everything he could to those who came to listen to him speak.

As his audience filed in for the first of many lectures scheduled for the day, he kept his hands busy while taking in the crowd, noting with some amusement the mixed bag of people in the room. While many of the classes he taught were tailored towards the newer recruits and junior members of the Bureau, there were specific classes geared to help anyone that came to listen; primarily his lectures on the behavioral patterns and pathology specific to certain types of crimes. The first lecture’s material covered profiling serial murderers based on available evidence, as the FBI currently had three prominent cases with at least five dead bodies apiece to their credit. Seasoned members of Behavioral Sciences and Forensics filed in alongside the freshly minted agents, as well as more than one uncomfortable looking head of specific departments. He watched over the top of his glasses as the seats fill up, pushing down his natural anxiety as the men and women he was there to teach settled in their seats, speaking quietly to one another while they waited for him to begin. He gave the stragglers until five past the hour before raising his hand, calling for silence.

As he opened his mouth to speak, two men stepped into the room, nodding to those who turned to regard them. Rather than taking a seat with the rest of the throng, both men stood at the door, watching Will with calculated interest. One he recognized as his good friend (and sometimes worst enemy) Jack Crawford, the head of Behavioral Sciences. Since many of Jack’s own team was currently seated in the room, Will wasn’t surprised he had taken an interest in his lecture. He and Jack got along famously, but it was at his request that Will so often lost his mind in the analysis of others, and his requests left the profiler with mixed feelings towards him. Jack grinned and nodded, indicating Will was okay to begin. Will closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself to refrain from rolling his eyes. _First you interrupt, then you tell me to get on with it. Typical._

Will took a deep breath and turned his eyes to the man that had entered with Jack. The gentleman was someone Will had never seen before; if he had, Will was sure he would have remembered. He was tall, lithe and well built for his physique. His body was encased in a pair of well fitting black dress pants and a matching waistcoat over a deep oxblood button up shirt. The jacket that completed his ensemble was slung casually over one shoulder. Will observed the strength in his shoulders and the way he carried himself, obviously powerful even when not in motion. His shirtsleeves were casually rolled up to display tantalizingly tanned skin covering well defined muscle. His straight hair was cut professionally short but with a long fringe that fell boyishly across his forehead, burnished blonde and peppered through with enough grey to distinguish him without giving a hint to his age. He had a wide, expressive mouth and… interesting eyes. Will couldn’t discern their color from the distance that separated them, but he could feel the depth of personality shining in them from across the room. The mouth quirked up in a half smile and Will realized with a rush that he had not yet begun his lecture; instead he had spent the last two minutes staring at the stranger in the room. Shaking his head, he tore his gaze away and started to speak.

“What are the characteristics of a psychopath?” he asked into the room. “How can you identify this particular diagnosis without blindly labeling crimes incorrectly because you don’t have another term for what the crime scene is trying to tell you?” He started to pace in front of the podium as he often did when he was speaking, stopping to cast his gaze to the faces looking back at him with rapt attention. He caught the eyes of the man standing next to Jack and quickly looked away, avoiding the distraction as he found his rhythm. “Nobody? Okay, let’s talk about it. A psychopath can tell what someone is thinking, but they do not feel as we feel. Many say they’re distinguished by lacking a conscience, but when attempting to profile a killer, your observation of their behavior needs to go much deeper than the surface violence of their crimes, into the depths beyond unfeeling and into the center of their being, the core that made them into the person you are hunting.” He paused again, moving to the board behind him. He uncapped a marker and began to write, scrawling words as he spoke.

“What is their design? Why did they choose this particular method to kill or display a victim? The crime scene itself will often give you more insight than the person you are trying to catch, especially about the way he thinks. Even though someone may be committing a crime, its likely that he doesn’t have any kind of personal understanding of his psychology and methodology. Its up to us, the experts, to determine what they are, and its because of our knowledge that we can put so many killers behind bars.”

As the course continued, Will found the stranger increasingly difficult to ignore; his facial expressions reflected a keen interest in the lecture he was giving, and a depth of understanding that drove Will to distraction every time he risked a glance. More than once, he stammered over a response, all caused by a simple glimpse into the stranger’s face. _Christ, pull yourself together. Sure he_ _’s attractive, but you don’t need to be doing this to yourself._ Will finally had to stop taking furtive glances altogether, simply to avoid embarrassment.

When the lecture concluded and the lights came up, Will found himself more grateful than usual that nobody but the two men lingered. He stayed at the podium, watching the crowd file out of the hall, parting around Jack and the man like the sea around stones. When the room finally cleared of all but them, the two men moved forward towards the podium. Will held his breath, watching the unknown gentleman stride forward from beneath his lashes. _He moves with the strength and grace of a predator._ The thought flashed unbidden through his mind; it took more effort than it should have to school his face into a mask of polite boredom. _There was no reason to give away more than I already have, not when I know nothing about him._ Jack’s voice cut through his thoughts, effectively shutting down his internal debate.

“That was quite the speech, Will,” he drawled. “Always inspiring to listen to you walk the troops through the finer details of learning how to think like a killer.” Will could hear the smug delight in Jack’s voice, and couldn’t help the snark that came out in his own, even has he took the agent’s outstretched hand.

“I don’t really know what the point of Behavioral Sciences is if your agents have to come in here and have me teach them how to think,” he retorted, his eyes shining. “I thought they were supposed to know how to do that before they were hired.” Jack laughed, his voice rumbling pleasantly as they shook hands.

“Sure, sure. But I have to give you something to do, and you _are_ the best.” The man next to Jack quietly cleared his throat, drawing Will’s attention unwittingly back to his eyes. What he saw in their depths took his breath away. _Red. Holy god, his eyes are red and gold._ Jack spoke up in introduction, pulling Will’s thoughts away from the strangely haunting color of the newcomer’s eyes.

“Will Graham, scourge of the minds of serial killers everywhere, I’d like you to meet the newest staff member of Behavioral Sciences, someone who is almost as distinguished as you in his chosen field.” Ushering the other man forward, Jack continued speaking, completely unaware that Will was no longer listening. _New staff member_ _… I’m going to work with this man with the fascinating eyes._ “This is Doctor Hannibal Lecter. He will be assisting us with our staff mental health evaluations, as well as consulting on some of our more violent crimes, much in the way you do.” Will came back to himself long enough to roll his eyes.

“So you’re going to go into his office and bully him until he helps you as well?” he quipped. Jack and the doctor laughed and Will’s breath caught, entranced by the deep, melodic tone of Hannibal’s voice. 

“Bully, no, but coerce for the greater good, absolutely,” Jack replied, unaffected. “Besides, you should be thanking me. Because of the doctor’s chosen field, before I introduced you, I brought him here to see you in action so he would know it’s no use poking around in your head.” _Perhaps, such a thing wouldn_ _’t be so bad,_ Will thought wildly. Hannibal extended his hand, engulfing Will’s when he took it; his skin was warm, long elegant fingers wrapping around his hand in an almost embrace. Tingles shot up Will’s arm at the contact. Face flushing, he tried to rein in the sudden and inexplicable attraction he felt towards the man before him. _Jesus, not even here a full five minutes and I already want to peel him out of that shirt._

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Will,” Hannibal murmured. “I have listened to recordings of many of your previous lectures, especially the ones concerning that nasty business with the Minnesota Shrike case last year. I understand it was due to your specific knack for the monsters that he was finally apprehended.” _He has an accent. And that voice. Christ, I might not survive this._ Will shook his head and took back his hand, looking up into the maroon and gold gaze, a pleasant shock running through his body at their unexpected proximity. Hoping he wasn’t showing as much as he felt, he smiled; an obligatory raise at the corners of his mouth that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I read the crime scenes yes, but much of the legwork that needed to be done had already been completed. My involvement was little more than a hunch and a little bit of luck, I’m afraid.” Will coughed into his hand and took a step back, giving himself a a little breathing room. “I am one tiny cog in the big machine that is Behavioral Sciences, Doctor Lecter. Please don’t mistake me for a super hero. You will be sorely disappointed.” The other man smiled, his gaze cool.

“Hannibal, please. I am only Doctor Lecter to my patients, and you are not under my care.” They assessed one another from across the distance Will created. Hannibal cleared his throat and continued. “I get the sense that you are often humble when it comes to taking credit for your accomplishments. I take it you do not enjoy being thrust into the spotlight. It’s perhaps too much of a reminder of the monsters you work so hard to apprehend.” Hannibal tilted his head to the side, staring into Will’s face with an intensity that was both unnerving and strangely evocative. Heat rose up in Will’s cheeks; he turned and looked away, but Hannibal wasn’t quite finished.

“I’d wager that the monsters you often see in your mind leave little room for the pleasant things you’d much rather have knocking about up there,” he said, his eyes calculating. Will’s smile slipped; he felt the more genial emotions leak from him, leaving his gaze cold and empty as a winter sky. He took another step back, widening the gap between them.

“As Jack mentioned, I am not fond of being analyzed, Doctor. I spend too much time playing the same games you’re attempting and I am already intimately aware of all the tricks.” He leaned forward unconsciously, holding Hannibal’s surprised gaze. “You see, that’s what makes me so good at what I do. I don’t appreciate my mind being prodded, especially without my permission. If you’d like to keep the work we do together pleasant, please refrain from doing so.” Hannibal smiled then, a true and genuine smile, dark and _decadent_. It caught Will off guard, tightening his stomach with a sharp pang of desire. _Holy god._

“My apologies,” Hannibal replied, his grin widening. “Like you, it is not something I can simply turn off. However, I would like us to be friends, and therefore, in the future, I will be sure to do nothing you don’t specifically ask me to do.” Will nodded, turning the phrase over in his mind. _Anything I ask you to do. As if you_ _’re anticipating my desires._

“And what makes you think I’ll ask you to look into my head?” he retorted, his voice sharp as broken glass. Hannibal laughed, the sound filling the room, lightening the air around them. Will watched him, fascinated. _If I could bottle the sound, I_ _’d be rich._

“Much like you, I have a gift of my own,” Hannibal replied, his voice still filled with mirth. “I can identify those that have much to unburden, but have nobody to listen.” Holding Will’s gaze, he took a step forward. “You know you fall into that category, and it would be useless for you to deny it. When I officially begin my work, I would very much recommend booking a preliminary appoint so we can discover if we would be compatible in a therapist/patient environment. I feel I can help you work through a great deal of what you still carry with you.” Will said nothing, shocked. They stared at one another, the moment stretching on for what could have been minutes or hours. Time was no longer important. Eventually, Jack cleared his throat, effectively breaking the bubble that had formed around them. 

“Speaking of… well, nothing, but there is another reason I wanted to see you,” he said, looking guiltily at Will. The profiler said nothing, waiting. “They’ve sent out the invitations to this year’s Halloween party, and I was hoping I could convince you to attend this year. You’re likely to find the invitation on your desk when you return to your office. They were all dropped off this morning before we arrived.” Will snorted, and reached for his mug of coffee, taking a sip of what remained.

“Knowing my personality, what makes you think you’re ever going to get me to go to one of those things, Jack?” he replied. “You’ve been trying for years, and so far, I’ve managed to successfully avoid them all. Why would I change my behavior now?” Jack crossed his arms and smiled conspiratorially. _Shit._

“The theme.” 

“The… theme,” Will replied, studying the smug look on his friend’s face. Jack nodded.

“Yes,” he said, his voice dangerously close to laughter. “I can promise you it’s one you’re not going to want to miss.”

“And why’s that?” Will asked, suspicious. Jack only grinned. A sudden, sinking feeling filled the pit of Will’s stomach. _No. It can_ _’t be._

“ _It_ _’s not,_ ” he moaned. Unable to hold it in any longer, Jack’s face split into a wide smile.

“It is, and because it is, you are obligated to go.” _Fuck. It can_ _’t be._ Hannibal, silent until that moment, cleared his throat quietly.

“And what is this theme you’re so keen on, Agent Crawford?” he asked. Jack turned to face the other man, regarding him with sudden interest.

“It’s a masquerade, the only theme that Will has ever agreed that, if it were to happen, he would have no choice but to attend.” Will’s eyes narrowed, a terrible, uncharitable thought coming to him. _He wouldn_ _’t._

“Wait,” he said, his voice tight. “You didn’t put them up to this, did you?” Jack only smiled. Will’s blood turned cold. “You did, you absolute bastard.” Jack let out another barking laugh.

“Why are you upset?” he asked. “It’s right in your wheelhouse of approved coworker interactions. Everyone will be in a mask. Nobody there will know it’s you except those you want to know. All the discomfort you feel in crowds could easily be remedied with anonymity.” Jack’s voice turned pleading. “We’ve never had the pleasure of your company at one of these parties, not once in all the years you’ve worked with us. It will be good to have you out and about.” 

Will grimaced, embarrassed and unsure of how he was going to get out of going. He hated the idea of company parties, much less the actuality. Bad food, bad liquor, small talk with people he’d prefer to avoid… the whole fiasco was his idea of a nightmare. He much preferred his solitude to pretending to be interested in other people. He opened his eyes to find Hannibal was watching him, a look of amusement plain in his gaze. Jack followed his gaze, turning to the doctor with a smile.

“And what about you, Hannibal? Think you’ll attend the event?” Hannibal put on an air of deliberation, his bloodstained eyes rolling towards the ceiling as if in thought. Will held his breath, unwilling to admit he was also waiting for the other man’s reply.

“I do not know, Jack,” he finally said. “I am the new face at the Bureau and I’m not entirely sure I’d be welcome.”

“Sure you would,” Jack replied with a curt nod. “It would help erase some of the stigma that comes with being one of the office quacks. It will also make it easy for others to get to know you.” He tilted his head, towards Will, his eyes shining. “Plus, if I can convince you, then maybe you can help me convince Will into going as well.” Hannibal laughed, glancing in Will’s direction. It took him a single look to assess Will’s discomfort at the thought of the two ganging up on him about something as insignificant as an office party. Before he could reply, Jack continued his pitch.

“I should mention it’s black tie,” he continued. “We throw two every year, one at Halloween and once at Christmas, but the Halloween party always seems to go down the best with everyone that attends. It’s being held at the Sagmore Pendry this year, too. It should be a great time.” Hannibal smiled, regarding the two men; Jack looking excited, and Will appearing as if he wanted to vomit.

“I shall think upon it, Jack,” he replied, stealing a glance at the profiler. “Unfortunately, you will not have my assistance in coercing Will to attend. If he does, it will be with good reason and of his own volition. Otherwise, there will be no enjoyment in it.” Jack nodded and sighed good naturedly.

“I suppose you’re right,” he relented. “Either way, you know it’s coming now, both of you.” He glanced at his watch, eyes widening comically at the time. “I’ve gotta run. Will, can you please show Hannibal back to his office so he doesn’t get lost? It’s across the hall from yours, where Michaelson used to reside before he moved to Narcotics. I will catch you both later.”

The two men watched as Jack spun on his heel and rushed from the room. Once they were alone, the air seemed to change, thickening with an almost electric charge. Will wanted to look into Hannibal’s face, but didn’t dare. The contact felt too intimate, too personal. He busied himself by gathering his things from the podium before turning towards the other man. Hannibal waited quietly, his eyes glistening in the low light.

“Follow me,” Will murmured, his heart pounding away in his chest. “I’ll show you the way to your office.”


	2. Trust

_I’d stand in the shadows of your heart_   
_And tell you_   
_I’m not afraid of the dark._   
_-Anonymous_

* * *

_To what do I owe the frustrations of this new complication?_

Hannibal Lecter followed the man in front of him, mentally cursing any entity that may have had a hand to play in his current predicament. While he knew he may run into problems while working within the Bureau, the unexpected draw to their chief profiler took him completely by surprise. Throughout the man in question’s lecture, he had been able to do nothing to quell the sudden and fierce desire to know him. Now, as they walked together, the problems continued to compound; chiefly, his inability to keep his eyes from tracing Will’s form. The way the fine clothes he wore fit his frame was only one such distraction; the button down shirt in a shade that highlighted the cool blue of his eyes, a single button undone to expose the hollow of his throat was far more enticing than a traditional tie, the way the slacks he wore hung on his legs, the glasses that seemed to function as a barrier to keep him from the rest of the world rather than correct his vision…none of it compared to the physical attributes of the man himself. Will held a decidedly delightful mix of masculinity and fragility that Hannibal was finding almost impossible to resist appraising; the strong jaw, sensual lips and the disarray of the man’s curls that begged for his fingers… _I_ _’m getting away from myself. Again. This cannot continue._

Although he wanted to attribute his attraction to Will’s physical appearance alone, it was more than his aesthetics that drew the doctor to him in like a moth to a flame. There was a fire to his personality, a level of profound understanding of the world around him, yet a distinct desire to keep everything around him at a distance… the equal measures of vulnerability and obvious shrewd intelligence was proving a dangerous combination. _If his keen understanding is pointed in my direction, he will see right through everything I have attempted to hide_ _… which will spell disaster for us both down the road,_ Hannibal mused. It will be necessary to keep him at a professional distance. 

If only Jack hadn’t mentioned that infernal party.

Unbeknown to his new coworkers, Hannibal had a singular and encompassing weakness for black tie events; the more elaborate, the better. _And what is more exquisitely formal than a masquerade?_ It had been some time since he had the opportunity to indulge the societal side of his persona, and the chance to walk as a wolf amongst the greatest minds law enforcement had to offer was too good of an opportunity to pass up. 

Jack’s comment about coercing Will was quickly proving to be the center of his plans to attend. With each step towards their respective offices, the fantasy grew. Hannibal imagined them arriving together, sharing quiet words and talking with their fellow partygoers side by side. The vision in his mind became more solidified with each step towards their office doors; the idea that he may be able to not only convince Will to attend, but to go as his date, wouldn’t leave him alone. While they rounded corners, he carefully constructed the conversations they might have that would assist him in convincing the profiler that he could help him enjoy himself for the evening. The train of thought surprised him; he could count on one hand the number of times the desire to ease another’s discomfort had ever crossed his mind, especially when taking the danger Will posed to his position into account. His normal plan of attack would be to lure him close before beginning the systematic task of breaking and discrediting his mental and physical stability. When his victim realized what he was dealing with, his reputation would already be in question, making it that much harder for him to convince anybody that there was a monster in their midst. _It appears that won_ _’t be possible this time. I am already too drawn to him to break him down._

Hannibal sighed inwardly, once again cursing his luck. _If only he were ugly, I could avoid this entire mess._ But Will wasn’t. He was one of the most physically pleasing men Hannibal had ever had the pleasure of working with. _Then again, attraction isn_ _’t the only item that may ruin the illusion he seems to present. Perhaps he will prove to be uninterested, and choose to be rude with such information._ Hannibal thought about it a moment, then dismissed it entirely. While unable to discern Will’s general proclivities towards a sexual partner, he had felt the other man’s gaze from across the room while listening to him speak. It fell upon him and snagged, pinning him there with its intensity. The fascination was shared. It left him with an uncharacteristic desire to discover how deep their attraction ran.

They walked through the corridors in silence, taking turns down rows and going through doors that most would struggle to memorize. Hannibal cataloged the route they took, storing each twist and turn within his memory palace, mapping out the general layout of their floor. There weren’t many that knew of his particular talent to do so. Hannibal smiled to himself, a sudden thought flashing through his mind. _It may be advantageous to lose my way from time to time. If I do get lost within this building, I_ _’ll simply have to ensure I can ask Will to set me back on the correct path back to my office._

“So why the Bureau?” Will’s question floated back to him as they took yet another corner. “Did you run out of high society heads to examine?” The humor laced through the words threw Hannibal off balance. They hadn’t spoken since leaving the lecture hall; he expected to make it all the way to his office in the same silence. To his amazement, Will slowed his pace so they could walk side by side. 

“Your Agent Crawford actually came to me,” he replied. Will raised his eyebrows but stayed silent, waiting for Hannibal to continue. “I have assisted in creating profiles on occasion for other divisions, so my reputation preceded me. We have spoken many times, and he feels the professional opinion of a psychologist may come in handy on some of the high profile cases that come through Behavioral Sciences, especially since there has been a steady incline in serial killings over the last couple of years.”

He glanced at Will, who was eyeing him with something akin to interest for the first time. In a moment of honesty, he cleared his throat and continued. “The position he offered me was far too tempting to pass up,” he murmured. “I can continue to help people by allowing them to unburden and as a bonus, I get an inside glimpse into the more interesting minds that come through on cases.” He suddenly grinned, his eyes crinkling warmly. “I consider the position an improvement from my previous work of the pedestrian problems of the small minded and wealthy.” He took a breath, falling silent as they took the final corner, the last part of his reasoning kept safely in his throat. _That, and_ _I ate the last patient who displeased me with his antics, served his corpse to his friends at a dinner party, and your team is investigating the discovery of his body. I need to know how close you are to catching me so I can make adjustments to my behavioral patterns if necessary. I_ _’d very much like for you to remain in the dark about my extracurricular activities._

Will’s face opened, first with incredulity, then a wry humor. He laughed, the bright sound echoing off the walls that surrounded them. Hannibal stopped breathing for a brief moment, captivated by the sound. Will caught Hannibal’s eye, smiling. “There’s a rare frankness to you, Doctor,” he said, humor still laced through his voice. “It’s not a common trait for men in our line of work to come across, so hearing you speak your mind is refreshing.” Hannibal smiled as they walked the long hall towards their offices.

“How very kind of you to say,” he murmured. “It is not often I am able to work with men and women who prefer honesty to convincing themselves that there is nothing truly wrong. That their denial will carry them through until the next major episode that they can’t ignore. I’m hoping to find less of that within these walls.” He paused, slowing his stride. Will nodded thoughtfully, matching his pace. Heart thudding, Hannibal turned towards him, holding the startling blue gaze with his own. _Blue and silver. Sky and snow._

“I know you must be a busy man, but may I request a favor from you, Will?” he asked. Without pausing to consider, Will nodded, curious.

“Sure. How can I help?” he replied, his hands sinking into the pockets of his slacks. The casual stance was enough to make Hannibal’s heart race. _What in god_ _’s name is happening to me?_

“Would you be so kind as to join me for lunch with me today?” Hannibal asked. Will’s eyes widened. Hannibal continued, suddenly nervous. “I am afraid I don’t have a workload to peruse as of yet, and do not know anybody in the office,” he hurried on. “While I do not have any aversion towards solitude, I’d like to find my footing within this department as quickly as possible. I don’t want to seem distant and unapproachable, as Jack so kindly pointed out, by dining by myself.” 

Will considered the question for a moment, and much to his surprise, his heart contracted ever so slightly in his chest. It was so rare for him to be drawn to anyone, but the psychiatrist proved to be more than a little intriguing. Before he could answer, his natural defenses attempted to silence him in a sudden rush. 

_Do not feel sorry for him. You know nothing about him and while he_ _’s being polite now, he already tried to get into your head. Best avoid giving him another opportunity._ Unnerved, Will opened his mouth to decline, but it wasn’t what tumbled from his lips.

“Sure, no problem,” he replied. Hannibal’s eyes widened; he looking as surprised as Will felt. “I should warn you though, I usually don’t mingle with the others. I eat in my office and I almost always cook my own meals. I’m… particular.” Hannibal’s eyes lit up, a smile spreading across his face like the sun breaking through clouds. Will’s heart contracted again, just a little tighter than before. _Christ he_ _’s attractive. And apparently I’ll do anything to spend time with him. Not a comforting thought._

“You and I have much more in common than what initially meets the eye,” the doctor murmured, pleasure plain in his voice. “I also spend much of my time in the kitchen preparing my own meals, and for much the same reason. I am careful what I allow into my body, and I have found that my selectivity has served me well over the years.” Will nodded, relieved. Glancing at his watch, he started walking towards their offices once again, Hannibal following genially at his side.

“I have another lecture to give in ten minutes, which will last a couple of hours,” Will said, stopping outside of Hannibal’s office door. “Notes on a narcotics case I’m going over with their team. We can meet in my office when it’s concluded. It should give you some time to settle in.” Hannibal nodded, grateful. 

“Thank you, Will. I appreciate your kindness.” 

“Sure,” he replied. “No problem.” He glanced at his watch again, eyes widening. “I’ve gotta run, but I’ll see you in a few hours.” He held out his hand, and once again, Hannibal’s long fingers encased his own. The electricity between them was still present, shooting along Will’s arm and down his spine in a pleasant cascade of sensation. Hannibal turned and entered his office and Will rushed off unsteadily towards the lecture hall. _I can_ _’t even shake his hand,_ he thought dismally. _How the hell am I going to survive an entire hour alone in his company?_ Silently cursing his decision, he opened the lecture hall and made his way to the front of the room, attempting without much luck to put the enigmatic Doctor Lecter from his mind.

***

“So, have you given any real thought into how you are going to deny Jack his request to have you at the Halloween event?” Will rolled his eyes, chewing a sinfully tender piece of pork loin that Hannibal had offered in exchange for a slice of venison. Although there had been some initial awkwardness when they met in Will’s office, it had quickly dissipated when they opened their meals, swapping bites like boys would exchange baseball cards. Both men had groaned simultaneously in Epicurean ecstasy at the quality of the other man’s meal, and when their eyes met, the moment of humor they shared filled the room with a quiet and careful warmth; the beginnings of what could eventually pass for friendship. Dining with Hannibal now felt as comfortable and intimate as an old sweater. _If only I could stop thinking about kissing him, life would be perfect._ Will swallowed and reached across the desk for his water.

“I haven’t,” he confessed, “and I know it seems an odd hill to die on, but it’s so much more complex than what good ol’ Uncle Jack likes to pretend it is.” Will took a sip from his bottle, avoiding Hannibal’s curious glance. “I have a problem with social gatherings,” he confessed. “The main issue being that I hate them.” Hannibal laughed; a pure, decadent sound that caught Will’s breath in his throat. For an instant, he had to cross his legs; the sound tightened his slacks significantly. He breathed down his arousal, using a napkin to strategically cover the prominent bulge, face flushing with color. _Jesus, why can_ _’t I get ahold of myself today?_ Thankfully, Hannibal reached for his water, unaware of Will’s embarrassing state.

“I can sympathize,” the doctor murmured, “although I do not share your aversion.” He leaned forward and placed a hand on Will’s shoulder reassuringly. “I am certain that, despite your aversion, should you choose to attend… together, we could find ways of making it interesting.” _We?_ Will swallowed down the questions that rose to his throat, focusing instead on the hand on his shoulder. The weight anchored him, creating a safe space to consider the idea. _With him by my side_ _… maybe-_

_“_ So you’re planning to go, then?” he asked casually. Hannibal nodded, leaning back into his seat. On his way, he skewered another piece of venison from Will’s container, much to the profiler’s amusement. _Offers me a solution to the party debacle and pilfers my food in the process._

“Yes,” the doctor replied, nodding as he chewed. “I believe that Agent Crawford is correct in the assumption that I will lose some of the stigma that surrounds being the office psychiatrist if I attempt to mingle.”

“Yeah, I’ve never been much for mingling.” Hannibal fixed Will with an assessing stare. The profiler stilled like a rabbit beneath his gaze. For a long moment, they sat in companionable silence, regarding one another with a cautious interest. When Hannibal finally spoke, his voice was low and reassuring, coaxing. Will leaned forward to catch each word.

“I believe you could find enjoyment in such things,” the doctor murmured, “ if you could let go of being Will Graham, the scourge of the FBI’s most wanted list for an evening.” He smiled, a secret upturn of lips that sent Will’s pulse thrashing against his ribs. “That is part of the delight of wearing a mask. They have had a beneficial psychological effect for many centuries. The wearer possesses the ability to blend in to his surroundings, going as unnoticed as he chooses to be. Many enjoy the freedom to be one’s true self and give in to desires that were not previously considered to be within reach.” He leaned back and took another sip of water, watching Will from beneath his lashes. The profiler contemplated his words, his face thoughtful. 

“I suggest you use the anonymity to your advantage,” Hannibal continued. “Instead of attending as Will Graham, go as a man there to enjoy himself in the company of those who find his presence a delight.” Will laughed, his face opening in a grin that made him appear five years younger than he was. Hannibal’s heart fluttered in his chest, but he pushed down the reaction, focusing instead on the delight of the other man’s company. There would be plenty of time to assess his reactions. _Later._

“I’ll think about it, but I make no promises,” Will replied, his voice still light with his laughter. “I still have a couple of weeks to decide.” Hannibal nodded slowly, taking a small sip from his water bottle. 

“That may be so, but I’d make your decision with some haste, or you’ll find you may be without the proper attire for such an event.” Will groaned good naturedly, sinking into his seat.

“I’ve never good at that part either, so it may be best to skip the event altogether,” he grumbled. “That way, I don’t have to bother.” The doctor regarded him from where he sat, shaking his head.

“Honestly, Will,” he admonished. “It’s meant to be a good time, and finding a suit that will be appropriate wouldn’t be that much of a chore.” Will leaned forward and stole another of the doctor’s tender new potatoes, downing it in neat bites.

“Perhaps. I’ll have to think about it.” The conversation turned to other, easier things.

The two men had leaned together unconsciously as the hour progressed, gravitating towards one another as if drawn by magnets. A bubble had formed around them, much as it had in the lecture hall, and Will found himself simultaneously more comfortable and more aroused than he had been in longer than he dared contemplate. _If I could go with him_ _… maybe-_ The intimacy of the space was broken by someone at the door, the sound of a throat being cleared shattering the fragile connection as if it were a soap bubble. Will turned, surprised. Jack Crawford stood in the doorway, looking tired and drawn.

“I hate to break this up gentlemen.” He glanced at Will apologetically. “I just got a call to a crime scene, and it appears to be linked to one of the big cases we are currently trying to solve. Are you able to get away to assist?” Will’s face closed down, losing the wonderful openness it had during his meal with the new doctor. The gravity of what he was being asked to do etched itself into his features, leaving feeling haunted. _I don_ _’t want to do this._

“Technically I have a lecture to give,” he replied, warily watching Jack’s face. “But would I be correct in assuming that most of the men who would be in attendance will be at the scene?” Jack nodded.

“You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t necessary to have you read the scene. This is going to be the seventh victim that we know of and we are hoping to make haste on the case.” Jack leaned into the doorway, fixing Will with a careful stare. “Will you come?” he asked quietly. 

For a long time, Will didn’t answer. He sat at the desk, sinking further into himself as the minutes passed in the strained quiet. Eventually, Hannibal cleared his throat. Both men turned towards him, their eyes guarded and questioning.

“Forgive me for interjecting,” he murmured, “but perhaps I may also be of some assistance.” He glanced at Will, his eyes softening as he continued. “If I accompanied our profiler, it would provide him with some support in what he is about to do for you, Jack. We have come to some understanding on the type of work he does and how it commingles with my own areas of expertise. I would be happy to drive there with him, and can return with him should we need to discuss what he sees in this killer’s newest work. I may also be able to flesh out more details of the profile he provides.” Will stared into the doctor’s eyes, his own wide with shock. Hannibal spoke to him without words, willing the profiler to understand. _Trust me. I can help you if you let me._ Jack slowly nodded his agreement, looking thoughtfully between the two men; Hannibal appeared calm and put together, Will tired and stressed. _Already protective of him. Maybe they_ _’ll be good for one another._

“Are you fine with that arrangement, Will?” he asked. The profiler glanced at him, his eyes angry.

“Do I have a choice?” Jack breathed his frustration down, fixating on a spot behind their heads while he counted to ten. _Insolence and a constant stubbornness. Why does he always have to get like this?_

“You always have a choice, but this choice helps us catch killers and save lives,” he bit out. “If you’d prefer to sit in your safe little bubble, I can leave you to do that, but it will be on you if another person dies.” Hannibal interjected just as Will opened his mouth to retort.

“We will be along not far behind you, Jack. For now, I find it prudent that you do not begin an argument you cannot, in good conscience, complete.”

“As long as you ensure he’s there,” Jack replied, annoyed. “I’ll see you there.” The agent turned on his heel and left the room. Will stared after him, shaking. The confident man that had been conversing with Hannibal had all but disappeared, leaving behind a stressed shell of a man that still managed to look murderous. He buried his face in his arms, voice muffled when he finally spoke.

“I don’t want to do this, Hannibal,” he whispered. “I hate this part of my job. Every time I go with Jack somewhere, I lose a piece of myself to the work. He doesn’t understand, or he doesn’t care how much it takes from me.” Hannibal leaned forward and touched Will’s arm, drawing his attention back to their bubble of safety. A thrill of surprise ran through him; Will had already begun to open up to him and instead of coercion, the other man relied on the promise of a sympathetic ear. The thought filled him with an unexpected warmth.

“I understand,” he murmured, squeezing the other man’s arm gently. “Your gift is one of pure empathy. You can assume the points of view of anyone around you, and some of those points of view are bound to scare you. I can imagine it to be an uncomfortable talent to possess.” Will drew in a deep breath and nodded, standing so he could clear their dishes. Hannibal watched him work, his face carefully blank. It took several minutes for Will to break the silence.

“Yes, exactly,” he finally agreed, his voice brittle and fragile. He ran a frustrated hand through his curls, sending them into a riot around his face. It took every ounce of self control Hannibal possessed to prevent himself from reaching forward to fix them. “It doesn’t stop Jack from asking, nor does it stop me from going. The guilt of what happens to the next victims because I refused would eat me alive.” Hannibal stood gripped Will’s shoulders, turning him to face him. The profiler’s eyes were wide and blue; color deep enough to drown in. Hannibal swallowed hard, the click in his throat audible in the quiet that surrounded them. 

“You have not had me at your side on one of these excursions,” he said gently, holding Will’s gaze safely in his own. “I will do what I can to ease your burden, and we can discuss it afterward should you feel it would be helpful.” Will nodded, unconvinced but in less distress. Hannibal turned back to Will’s chair and picked up the the profiler’s jacket, holding it out for him to slip his arms through, smoothing it into place with a sweep of his arms. Crossing quickly to his own office, he picked up his fine wool overcoat and pulled it on. He turned to find Will winding a scarf into place, his face very carefully blank.

“Are you ready?” he asked quietly. Will sighed, but nodded.

“Indeed Doctor Lecter. Shall we?” Hannibal smiled, ushering Will in front of him. He placed a palm on the center of his back, guiding him as he passed. He didn’t pretend to not feel the shudder that ran through him at the touch. _I know. I feel it, too._

“Hannibal, please,” he replied. Will’s mouth quirked up in a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Right. Hannibal. Let’s get this over with.”

***

The scene that waited for them was worse than expected but not in the traditional sense. There was very little blood, no gore, no decomposition. _She was just so young._ Will’s breath hitched in his chest as he ducked underneath the police tape that cordoned off the scene. His shoe caught on the exposed roots of the tree the body was tucked against as he hurried forward. He hardly felt the trip, nor the hand on his arm when Hannibal steadied him. He didn’t see anything except the girl. 

Will ran quickly through the evidence they had collected so far, desperately searching for what they were missing. 7 bodies, 7 cemeteries, all within a 50 mile radius of one another, no discernible pattern to how each location for dumping was chosen. The body had three bite marks, just as the others did; one to the throat, right side, one to the right inner wrist, one to the very upper and inner thigh, close to the line where panties would go if she still had them. Lividity placed time of death at less than 12 hours previously. The girl had been removed from where she was killed and placed in the cemetery, exactly as all the others had been. They had all been found dressed in white, propped up against a gravestone or tree, appearance groomed to assume sleep rather than death. Within distance of each body was found a carved wooden stake made of ash. The first bodies found had it somewhere within reach, but over the last three victims, the killer had taken to posing them with the stake in their grasp. Will stared down at the newest girl, willing her to speak to him. _Tell me. Tell me everything so I can stop this._

“He wants his victims to be likened to immortals.” Will started at the sound of the cultured voice that stood near his elbow. He nodded, not bothering to reply, but instead looked for Jack in the crowd. If he was to glean any information from the girl by the tree, he needed everyone to leave. The noise and movement of so many living people was distracting. Will finally caught Jack’s eye and the agent began to shout, his voice carrying over the headstones with an eerily authoritative echo.

“Alright everyone, let’s clear out for about 20 minutes! Our expert is here and he needs space to work.” The workers gathering evidence paused, glancing around until their eyes snagged on Will. Most moved off the space quickly; those who lingered watched them go, frozen like bugs in amber. Jack raised his voice once more, letting it carry through the macabre space.

“I said move, people!” he shouted, his face turning an alarming shade of red. “The body will still be here when you get back!” The stragglers dispersed in a hurry. Jack crossed the cemetery to where Will and Hannibal stood waiting, watching Will’s face as he approached. Will tracked his approach with careful eyes, Hannibal standing behind him, a comfortingly strong presence at his back. Jack raised his eyebrows, surprised at how close the two men were standing. Will didn’t normally take well to people in his personal space, especially when preparing to walk a crime scene. _Maybe the doctor will do him some good._

Will smiled wanly as Jack stopped beside him, eyes lingering on the dead girl beneath the tree. “They’re getting better at clearing out,” he said dryly. “I think you intimidate them, especially after that incident in Fairview.” Jack smiled without humor, shifting his weight as he followed the direction that Will was staring.

“Probably,” he mused, “but if that’s what it takes, then whatever gets them out of your way. Preferably as quickly as possible. I’m tired of finding corpses like this one. Are you ready?” Will nodded, glancing at the man behind him.

“Do you mind staying here? I find people near me distracting when I’m trying to work.” Hannibal smiled, placing his hand on the other man’s shoulder. 

“Whatever you need, Will,” he murmured, his eyes flickering to Jack. “Jack and I can stay where we are until your business with the victim is concluded. I’d be happy to discuss it when you return.” Will nodded distractedly and walked towards the scene, leaving Jack and Hannibal standing at the edge of the tape. When he was out of earshot, Jack turned to the doctor, his eyes stormy.

“I’ve never seen him react to someone the way he seems to be responding to you,” he mumbled, surprise plain in his voice. “Normally, he’s very reluctant when it comes to having to use his skills. Your presence seems to have lessened his hesitation considerably.” Hannibal inclined his head, his maroon gaze tracking Will’s progress around the body.

“Although we will have more opportunities to speak about Will, I’ll tell you what I can now to help assuage some of your guilt,” he relied quietly. “As I told him today…” He sighed, considering his words. “What Will has is one of the most… uncomfortable gifts one can have; pure empathy. He _feels_ everyone around him absolutely, and from every perspective in quick succession. This particular talent makes it difficult for him to ground himself in reality, which I’m sure you’ve noticed when he’s out in the field. He may become lost in a scenario that is not of his own devising.” Hannibal took a breath, watching from the corner of his eye as Jack had the grace to look embarrassed. _Good. Much of this appears to be at your behest. You should feel something for it._

“Becoming trapped in a mind that is not your own is frightening in its own right,” he continued, “ but being in the minds we must frequently traverse can exacerbate the inability to discern reality from fiction. He can find himself thinking and feeling the emotions of a killer, someone much darker than his soul will ever be. Those paths are often twisted and unclear, difficult to find one’s way back from. Especially if he does not have anything to help guide him.”

“Do you think you can be his guide, then?” Jack asked, his voice low. Hannibal regarded the agent with a small smile before turning his attention back to Will’s progress.

“I have no way of knowing just yet,” he confessed. “I do understand that he needs some sort of anchor to what is real in his world. A breadcrumb trail, a way of easily finding his way back, even in the dark. Given time, I may be able to help him with some grounding techniques he hasn’t tried, but I will leave the decision up to him on how far I can push him. I will not force anything upon him. I require full participation in all of my methods for me to deem them effective. Let me first observe his behavior, and with that knowledge, I can best understand how to help him carry the weight of his burden.” The two men fell silent, instead focusing on watching the profiler work. Even at a distance and under such distressing circumstances, Hannibal felt his heart clench in his chest. _I will do what I can, said the fox to the rabbit. Should you cry out, I will come running._

***

Completely unaware of the discussion Hannibal and Jack were having, Will knelt down next to the corpse of the girl by the tree. She was like the others he had examined; just out of her teens, pale skinned and ethereal, with flaxen hair down to her waist. It blew in a wild disarray around her face, torn from its careful styling by the wind that blew at a steady pace through the cemetery, bringing with it the chill of early Autumn. Her hands had been placed in her lap, the ash stake frozen in her grasp as rigor set in. He cataloged the color of her dress and the chipped polish on one hand, the way her socks scrunched around her feet, the careful laces of her shoes. She wore a small pendant, a symbol he recognized, but couldn’t quite associate to why he knew it. 

Closing his eyes, Will sat back, took a deep breath, and let the pendulum swing.

_I know this girl. We are friends, or at least familiar acquaintances and she didn_ _’t fight when I took her life. I took her blood first, drained her enough that she was almost in the arms of eternal rest by the time I bit her. She enjoyed the first bite, maybe even the second… all the way up until she realized she was going to die. The tearing around the wound is where I clung onto her with my teeth. Teeth? No, fangs. Artificial teeth that fit over my real ones, teeth that have…_ Will began to laugh, and once he started, he couldn’t stop. The absolute ridiculousness of the conclusion he came to was almost too much for his mind to handle, not only in its simplicity but its utter stupidity. _Of course. I fancy myself the eternally living, and I_ _’m trying to bring them over to me. So far, I’ve failed each time and so I leave them with the symbol of death for my “kind”. They believe they’re going to rise because I convince them of the possibility of life beyond their mortal death, and they let me bite into them and drain their blood, thinking they’re going to be immortal. I keep the blood to immerse myself in my fantasy, and I display them in this Victorian death scene fashion to satisfy my need for the power over my fantasy world I have been trying to create. This is my design._ Shaking his head, he stood and moved back across the cemetery. 

“You’re not going to want to hear what I have to say, Jack,” he called as he drew close to where the agent and Hannibal stood. Jack grimaced, but nodded encouragingly.

“Maybe not, but I need to hear it anyway,” he replied. He regarded Will with suspicion, his eyes narrowing in the bright light. “You weren’t down there as long as you usually need. What did you see so quickly?” _And how did you see it?_ Rather than meeting Jack’s eyes, Will turned to Hannibal.

“Before I give you what I have, can I borrow your expertise for a moment? I want to ensure I send them on the correct hunt.” Surprised, Hannibal nodded and the two men followed Will back to the crime scene. Glancing at the doctor, Will gestured to the display laid out before them. “For you as a psychiatrist, what’s the first thing that stands out to you about the way this body is arranged?” Hannibal’s red and gold gaze swept over the scene, snagging on the wood grasped in the girl’s hand. He gestured to it with a single gloved hand.

“If I were to choose anything beyond the fact entire scene resembles a poorly recreated romance novel cover, I would have to select the stake in the victim’s grip,” he replied dryly. “Was she meant to stake herself with it, fend off an attacker, or was it just here to mock her in her final demise?” Will grinned, looking back at Jack, who watched them with surprise.

“We should keep him.,” he said, his eyes dancing. “He shared my thoughts exactly.” Will walked around the two men and knelt on the ground, pointing to various locations on the body while he spoke. 

“While the entire position is very obviously staged, the victims are all being carefully chosen for a particular aesthetic. This killer is attempting to do several things simultaneously and failing at all of them, which means he’s going to keep trying. He’s choosing each victim to fit within this formula; pale, light colored hair, attractive, and young. They’re making beautiful corpses, but they also have a Victorian-era vampire vibe.” He sat back onto his heels, letting his hands drop to his sides. 

“Think Anne Rice but not well written and definitely not coming back from the dead,” Will continued. “He poses them as if they might, but he knows that no matter what he’s managed to convince them of, none of these corpses are going to stand and walk away from where he’s chosen to leave them, although that’s the fantasy he’s selling them.” 

He stood, wiping his hands on his slacks before catching Jack’s eye. “That’s why you haven’t found any signs of a struggle. He’s removing enough blood to either weaken them beyond fighting or knock them out, then placing the very ritualistic bites on their skin. It’s as if those particular areas have some significance to what he’s attempting to do. There is a sexual component to it, but it’s not the need to sexualize the victims. More a need to add to that same European undead allure.” Hannibal nodded in agreement.

“You may want to interview an expert in some of the older Eastern European folklore surrounding the living dead,” the doctor added thoughtfully. “Their methods for turning their victims may highlight similar marks left on your victims. You said there have been others, correct?” Will’s eyes sparkled. He nodded, pleased. Hannibal turned towards Jack. “If I am permitted to take a look at the photos of the previous victims, I may be able to point you in the direction of the region from which your vampire is obtaining his inspiration. He’s meticulous about the details of each stage he sets. One that may have already been created. If we can find the origin of your killer’s inspiration, we can find the link between him and his chosen flock.” 

Jack looked from Will to Hannibal, unsure which man to address. Settling on the more familiar figure, he finally turned to Will. “Do you think he’s going to strike again soon?” Will thought for a moment before nodding.

“It’s likely that he’s already chosen his next victim, Jack,” the profiler replied. “He’s moving quickly through his process. This is his seventh victim in less than two weeks. He may only increase the number of victims until he creates whatever he considers the grand design he has here. If we are unlucky, we may start finding a body a day.” They walked down towards the cemetery gates, the sound of the technicians moving back towards the body swelling around them. “I’d recommend staking out every cemetery in a hundred mile radius to be safe,” Will told Jack. “I’d also keep an eye on previously hit stages, because once he figures out what he’s trying to accomplish, he’s likely to replicate his work.” Jack nodded, his eyes gleaming in the bright light of late afternoon.

“We can borrow the manpower to ensure we can cover those areas,” he replied. He regarded Will, a thought seeming to occur to him. “Will you be making yourself available to assist like you did with the Shrike?” Will tensed.

“You know damn well I don’t do field work anymore, Jack,” Will spat. “Not after what happened on that case. I still have nightmares about it and you give me enough with this kind of shit.” 

He pointed out towards the low lying tombs, his hand shaking. “This,” he fumed, “is the only piece of me you get to take.”

“I wasn’t suggesting-” But Will cut him off with sharp bark of laughter.

“Save it. I’m done reading this scene. You need to figure out where he’s getting his inspiration. If you can do that, you can figure out how he’s finding them.” He turned away, but seemed to remember something else, something important. After a moment’s internal struggle, he turned back to look at Jack. 

“She’s wearing a necklace that’s got a stylized ankh on it, an old Egyptian symbol for immortality. You might want to check that out as well.” Will’s eyes flicked to Hannibal beseechingly. “Can we go now? I’ve done my trick. I want my treat.” Jack snorted and waved them by.

“Of course we’ve got to have a vampire serial killer loose around Halloween. At what other time of the year would shit like this happen?” Will laughed, the sound eerie as it echoed off the stones before them. Without another word, he turned and walked towards the car, not waiting to see if Hannibal would follow. Hannibal glanced apologetically in Jack’s direction, but the other man was making his way back towards the technicians. He took a deep breath, gazing around the scene for another moment before following Will to the car.

When they reached where they had parked, the fine trembling had broken out across Will’s skin. He pulled on the door handle, only to find it locked. He tensed, waiting for Hannibal to catch up, lost in his own thoughts. _He_ _’s not doing it to these poor people because he thinks he can turn them. He’s doing it because he can convince them he can. The deception, knowing they’re going to die… that’s where he gets his power._ He started at the click of the car as Hannibal disengaged the vehicle’s locks and admitted him into the hushed quiet. Hannibal climbed in beside him and started the engine, turning on the heat without being asked. Turning in his seat, he watched, concerned, as the fine tremors chased their way across the empath’s skin, raising goosebumps to his arms. Without thinking, he reached for Will’s hand, and when Will didn’t resist, he pulled it into his lap, cradling it in his own. He was cold; his skin seemed to contain the bone deep chill of the wind. _Shock._ They sat in the quiet for a moment longer before Hannibal spoke.

“Are you okay, Will?” The man in question laughed, a high, wild sound that wound it’s way through the armor covering Hannibal’s heart. _This work_ _… it really hurts him. In ways neither Jack or I can fully comprehend. What a burden it must be to feel so much and express so little._

“Can we just go?” Will replied, his voice sounding as worn as he looked. “I don’t want to be here anymore.” 

“Of course we can,” Hannibal soothed. He released the profiler’s hand and put the car into drive, navigating them through the throng, the darkened glass of his windows keeping Will safe from the stares of curious onlookers. _As if you need to be put on display after what you just observed._ He glanced at Will as he navigated the car back onto the streets that would lead them to the Bureau. Will sat beside him, staring at the hand he had been holding as if in physical pain at their loss of contact. Hannibal didn’t speak, instead mulling over the crime scene and the profiler’s reactions to what they had seen. It didn’t take long for him to make up his mind.

“Now is not the most beneficial time to discuss what you saw, or your feelings about it,” he murmured quietly. Will started, but didn’t respond. “Some breathing space to first sort through it is in order,” Hannibal continued, unaffected by the silence. “I’d like to make a suggestion to you.” Will finally looked at him, eyes rounded and glassy. He remained silent, waiting. Hannibal took a deep breath and released it, trying to quell his sudden nervousness. _In for a penny._

“I do not believe the best relationship we are capable of is doctor and patient. In fact, I think it might be counterproductive to giving you an outlet for you to express your emotions. You very much need that release Will, and I’d like to provide it, but not in an official capacity.” The doctor looked over at the profiler, trying to gauge his reaction. Will had turned his face to the window, lost in thought.

“What do you suggest then, Doctor?” he asked, his voice tight. Hannibal smiled at the title. _When you_ _’re nervous, is it? An attempt to distance yourself from what is so obviously growing between us. I won’t let it happen. Not if I can help it._

“Hannibal, please,” he murmured, humor laced through his words. “Or I’ll have to call you Mr. Graham, which remains far too formal even to me. I’d much prefer it if we could be friends. Therefore, I’d like you to come to dinner tonight, around 8PM if it suits. We can discuss the case over good food and even better wine, and set your world back to rights without having to have the professional dynamic.” He could feel Will considering his words, attempting to read any meaning between the lines of what he suggested. _Is it really so hard to believe that I might just find you fascinating enough that I want to help you calm your mind?_

Will startled him when he responded.

“Fine. Hannibal it is. And… I’d like that. Dinner, I mean,” he said, blushing. “But I have conditions of my own.” Hannibal nodded reassuringly, urging the other man to continue. “ I’d like to make the time 7PM instead of 8. And only if we can cook together. I’ll even bring the meat. I still have venison steaks from my last hunting trip, and they’re always best when shared.” Hannibal’s heart thumped hard, threatening to break free from his chest. _Of course, you_ _’d be a hunter. How apt._

“I will agree to your terms… but only if you allow me to select the wine.” Will snorted, fingers pulling at a string wound around one of the buttons on his shirt.

“I’m no good at that kind of thing anyway, so sure,” he replied, sounding relieved. “You can select everything we cook except the protein. I’ll provide that. Fair?” Hannibal grinned, focusing on the drive as they reentered the Bureau grounds.

“More than. I’m quite looking forward to it.”


	3. Sharing

_Cooking is like love:_   
_It should be entered into with abandon_   
_Or not at all._   
_-Harriet Van Horne_

* * *

The shower was supposed to help relax him, but so far he was having no luck. Will stood under the the water, letting the punishing pressure beat into the tops of his shoulders and spine, thinking about what had transpired that day. He had never found himself taken with other people, preferring to keep them at arm’s length or further whenever possible. Doctor Lecter ( _Hannibal, or so he insists I call him_ ) managed to get under his skin, keeping him off balance and making him more comfortable than he could remember being with another person. There was the obvious attraction between them that ran through Will’s system like a low current of electricity any time they were in close proximity. Will was rarely attracted to anybody, choosing to avoid the possible emotional entanglements caused by personal relationships whenever he could. His life was complicated enough as it was. But… the way he felt the first time those maroon eyes met his from across the room… _Knock it off. This is not a romantic comedy. Hope for friendship and keep it in your pants. You are terrible at relationships._ He turned off the shower, effectively shutting out the thoughts running through his mind as he did. It would do no good to wonder how hot Hannibal liked his showers.

***

Will ran his hands through his hair one more time, trying to quell his nerves before exiting the car. Once out of the shower and after much contemplation, he changed from his work clothes into something more comfortable. Then changed. Then changed _again_. The current outfit was the third and final option yet when imagining Hannibal’s elegance in the office, he sat in the driveway and doubted his decision. He’d settled on jeans; well fitting and so dark washed they were almost black. Paired with a long sleeved pullover made of soft grey cotton and an open black vest, he knew he didn’t look bad, but it was not up to what he suspected were Hannibal’s usual standards of dress. _It’s too late now. You’ll have to feel like a slob next to one of the most attractive people you’ve ever met all night._ He sighed, knowing he could delay no longer. Picking up the butcher paper wrapped steaks he brought with him, he climbed out of his vehicle and walked up the clean and curving path that lead to Hannibal’s home. The house itself was a perfect mixture of classic and modern, mostly brick with white trim and huge windows taking up the front wall. From what Will could see of the inside, it was much like the doctor himself; understated opulence with muted colored furniture, simple and tastefully decorated with large pieces of artwork gracing the walls.

Before his nerves got the better of him, he knocked on the door. Blessedly he didn’t have long to wait. When Hannibal answered a moment later, Will’s mouth fell open, eyes raking hungrily over his form. Obviously expecting a casual evening as well, the doctor was wearing a black v neck sweater that clung to the contours of his chest and torso and a pair of light colored, straight legged jeans. His feet were bare and he looked so delectably comfortable it took all the younger man’s willpower to prevent him from hugging him. Hannibal’s eyebrow lifted and Will flushed a deep red. _Jesus, why can’t I keep it together?_

“Good evening, Will. Welcome to my home.” The doctor stepped back from the door to permit Will entry into the warm space. “Please, come in. I was just preparing the rest of tonight’s menu.”

“So you started cooking without me?” Hannibal laughed, closing the door firmly before engaging the lock. The sound of the bolt made Will’s pulse race. _Closing out the world. Just the two of us_. The thought of being completely alone with the doctor made his blood pound.

“I have not started cooking just yet, but I did want to prep for when you arrived. I hope you don’t mind that I already made dessert, though.”

“It depends on the dessert.” Hannibal smirked, turning to regard the other man. His eyes traveled appreciatively down Will’s form before settling on his eyes, his face open and calm, his gaze fond.

“That, I’m afraid, is secret to which you will not be made privy until it is time to eat it. Please make yourself at home. I can take those steaks through to the kitchen.” Their fingers brushed as Hannibal reached for the packages of meat, causing Will’s heart to stutter in his chest. _Jesus, I may not survive tonight._ Hannibal turned away as Will slipped out of his shoes and set them by the door. As he made his way to the kitchen, he glanced curiously around the open space, taking in the cream and wood furniture and an exquisite antique harpsichord gracing the far wall. Will quieted his thoughts of Hannibal’s elegant fingers striking the keys, but it was a near thing. Opposite was a vast, open kitchen, complete with granite counter tops, a gas range, massive refrigerator, and wood and glass shelving to give the room a modern appearance without sacrificing the warmth the wood touches added. Hannibal was already back behind the counter, removing the steaks from their paper wrappings. Following him into the space they would be using to prepare their meal, Will took in the rest of the ingredients selected: red potatoes, various vegetables and spices, a bottle of olive oil, butter, brown sugar, balsamic vinegar, blackberries, and bourbon. _Food for the senses._

“Since I’m helping, do I get to know what we are going to be eating or will I be cooking blind?” Hannibal grinned and leaned in to rinse his hands in the sink. Will caught the scent of the man’s aftershave, something autumnal and woodsy, with a faint hint of smoke. He unconsciously cataloged it for later perusal of new knowledge gained of the doctor. The scent made his mouth water.

“Normally, I do not allow any insight into dinner but as you stated, we will be preparing this meal together so I feel it’s best you have some knowledge before we get started. I thought we’d keep the menu rather simple. Roasted venison with a Balsamic blackberry reduction, seasoned red potatoes, and a vegetable medley. The game you chose is, of course, the star. The rest will help balance out the rich flavors of the meat.” Will nodded, pleased.

“Sounds delicious. Oven roasted, I take it? In cast iron, I hope.” Hannibal smiled as he handed Will a chopping knife.

“You know your way around the kitchen, Will. It is a delightful surprise. I do not often find myself in the company of those who enjoy making a meal as much as they do the consumption of said meal, so it will be a treat for me to have you here in this context. Can you please slice the vegetables and potatoes while I prepare these?” He indicated the steaks in front of him. Will nodded and turned to the chopping block where the rest of the ingredients lay.

“No problem.”

As they worked, they talked. Hannibal asked him questions about his life, his draw to the FBI, his hobbies. He carefully avoided any discussion of what had transpired during the day, and for that, Will was grateful. Hannibal took particular interest in Will’s hunting and fishing habits, and they fell into a lengthy discussion about field butchering benefits and the best places to find deer in the region. Will began to fall into a comfortable rhythm, working around the other man as they prepared their meal. They worked like a well oiled machine, anticipating the location of the other as if they had been doing this for years. However, there were the deliberate touches. On occasion, Hannibal would press a palm to Will’s back when reaching across him, the brushes of his fingers feeling hot and enticing despite the innocence of the contact. Once, while stepping behind him, Hannibal’s hand pressed into his side, near his hip. Will’s breath caught each time he felt the other man’s touch, his skin tingling and warm. Hannibal didn’t seem to notice his reactions, carrying the conversation from subject to subject with a practiced ease that betrayed his profession. The effect of the combination threw Will off balance, unsure but craving the contact each time it came. _Comforting._

As they finished their preparations, Hannibal removed the steaks from the oven to rest and came to stand behind Will as he finished checking the potatoes, peering over his shoulder at their progress. Will could feel the solid warmth radiating from the other man’s skin as he poked into a morsel, checking for tenderness. His pulse hiked into his throat.

“These are about done. How long do we have on the meat?” His voice sounded almost normal; only a slight trembling, barely audible, betrayed his emotions.

“Another five minutes and they will be well rested and able to be served. Why don’t you take a seat in the dining room? You’ve done plenty and plating is my pride and specialty. I’d very much like to serve you the fruits of our labor.” Hannibal’s breath ghosted across the skin at the nape of his neck, causing him to shiver, a small sound escaping his throat. He nodded, taking a step back from the stove. Hannibal moved fractionally, allowing his escape without bumping into one another. Will turned to face him, unsurprised to find a small, amused smile playing on his lips. 

“Is there anything you’d like me to take to the dining room?” 

“If you’d be so kind as to take the wine, I will join you in a few moments.” Hannibal gestured to the far counter, indicating a bottle of wine and two crystal wine glasses. Will nodded and moved to the end of the kitchen, picking up the glasses and bottle before walking through the connected archway and into the dining room. The table was a large, clean rectangle in the center of the room, laid with a deep burgundy runner, a small collection of gold and cream tapered candles grouped together in the center. Their place settings were set with matching crimson, silverware gleaming next to where their plates should be. Hannibal was correct; he loved presentation and it showed. Will was touched that he took the time to set such a beautiful table for a single guest. He set the glasses next to their respective places and uncorked the wine, leaving it next to where Hannibal would be seated to ensure it had breathed enough before pouring. While being unversed in wine, he knew enough to guess that Hannibal had chosen a red to accompany the meat and berries, which usually took longer to aerate than whites. He took a seat, admiring the large painting on the main wall depicting the Wild Hunt. The detail in the work was incredible, and the more he looked, the more there was to see. It held a classic, sophisticated brutality that caught Will’s eye and he sat, fascinated as he studied it.

He started when Hannibal came through the archway, apron removed to showcase long legs in his jeans, a plate in each hand. As promised, the food was presented as it was being served in a five star establishment, smelling delicious and far more aesthetically pleasing than what Will was used to. He inhaled the scents of the mingled flavors rioting on the plate as Hannibal dimmed the lights and produced a match to set the candles ablaze. _Candles and culinary skills to rival a professional chef. I feel like I’m being seduced._ The doctor took his seat and reached to pour them each a glass of Bordeaux from the bottle Will had brought through. The light played with the contours of his face, adding an ethereal sensuality that would otherwise go unnoticed in his jawline, cheekbones, and lips. Will couldn’t stop staring. Their eyes met as Hannibal raised his glass in a toast.

“To a delicious meal cooked with a new friend.” Will smiled and nodded, taking a small sip from his glass. He groaned as the flavor rolled across his tongue. 

“Christ that’s good. What am I drinking?” Hannibal smiled, maroon eyes washed to an almost black in the low light.

“Chateau Mouton Rothschild; an expensive but drinkable red blend that pairs best with wild game.” Will didn’t want to contemplate what ‘expensive’ meant in Hannibal’s world. Cutting a small slice of venison, he placed the morsel in his mouth, closing his eyes to enjoy the rich flavors of the meat as they combined with the tart berries in the sauce. The appreciative breath he took hooked in his lungs, a small moan escaping. When he opened his eyes, he looked over to find Hannibal watching him, a look of hunger of an entirely different kind in his eyes. Will smiled, taking another small sip of wine.

“We make a good pair in the kitchen. This food came out incredible. You did wonders with those steaks. Not many people can cook game, and rarely to such an excellent quality.” Hannibal gave him a small smile as he cut into his own food. He made an equally fascinating noise as he chewed, catching Will’s eye as he swallowed.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist we cook together with some regularity. This meal is perfect in ways infrequently achieved in a home kitchen.” Will laughed as he took another bite.

Their conversation drifted to art as Will complimented Hannibal on the painting on the wall.

“Ahhh yes, a modern version of The Wild Hunt of Odin. Such a fascinating tale of dark avengers taking to the skies to right the wrongs of the world. My family had a large tapestry depicting the same phenomenon that my sister and I used to sit and gaze upon when we were children. I spun her tales as to their origin to ensure she wouldn’t be frightened by the imagery. She loved the tapestry, as long as I was close. She wouldn’t go near it otherwise.” Will smiled, enthralled at this insight into the enigma the doctor presented.

“Is she your only sibling?” Hannibal’s face closed, a hint of sorrow flashing across his handsome features for the briefest moment. 

“She was my only sibling, but she passed many years ago. She was the light of everyone that knew her, and could twist anybody around her finger with a smile or a laugh. I loved her very much.” The sorrow that had been present on his face laced through his voice and Will almost regretted the discussion.

“I’m sorry you lost her.” Hannibal looked up into his eyes, his features haunted.

“As am I. A tale we will leave for another night. I’d very much like to discuss what occurred at the cemetery today, if you’re feeling up for it. We can retire to my office once I put these plates up, if that makes you more comfortable.” Will nodded, already prepared for this talk to be part of the evening.

“I knew you were going to ask about it so I have all of my answers written down in my pocket. Let me fish them out for you.” Hannibal laughed, the sound sending shivers up Will’s spine. _God that laugh._ _I don’t believe Mischa was the only member of the Lecter family to be able to wind others up._

“I do not believe in premeditated responses, Will. You will have to wait until the discussion begins, I’m afraid. Would you be so kind as to help me clear the table? We can take the rest of the wine on the journey with us to my office.” Will nodded and stood, collecting their plates. Moving carefully, he followed the other man out of the room, blowing out the candles as he went.

***

“So, what do you want to know?” They were now seated in two large armchairs in what could only be described as a study, complete with a large desk, drawing table and floor to ceiling shelves filled with books. The chairs in which they were currently seated surrounded a blazing fireplace, and Will was so comfortable that his feet were tucked underneath him so he could turn in his chair to speak with the doctor. Hannibal was also resting comfortably, body seated low so he could stretch his legs out in front of him. Both of their glasses rested on a small table between them, the light from the fire dancing across the liquid in waves of the darkest red. Hannibal had not turned on the main lights to the room, instead igniting one far corner lamp and the fire. The space was intimate and calming, instantly drawing Will in like sinking into a hot bath. He watched the other man who, even in his comfortable dress and state, managed to look incredibly refined and almost posed in his position. His voice seemed lower in the dim light of the room, smooth as silk and rich as chocolate.

“Tell me what you experienced looking at the corpse. It was fascinating to watch you walk the crime scene. I would like to understand the process if you can explain it.” Will took a small sip of wine, thinking on how best to describe his methods.

“I am not sure I can explain it, but I’ll try.” He sat up, thinking for a moment on how to begin. “For me to read a crime scene, I have to be able to become the person who committed the crime. I don’t mean try to think like them, not exactly anyway. It’s more than understanding their motives and methodology. Anybody with enough training could do that. I can become who they are, from all aspects and angles. For example, today. In order to give Jack the information I did, I had to imagine committing the crime myself. Reconstruct it with actions, watch my hands pick up the instruments that caused the victim's death. I fall so deeply into the role of the perpetrator that sometimes, I get lost within the people I am trying to catch. It’s not always easy to find my way back out. It can be… unsettling.”

Hannibal listened to Will talk, fascinated with his in grasp of how the empathetic part of his mind worked. So few with the gift understood it that it ended up driving them to insanity, one way or another. Will’s acceptance of what he could do was refreshing. _I wonder what he would understand about my crimes that I may not yet acknowledge myself? What mirror would he show me?_

“It’s quite remarkable that you are able to dig so deeply into what atrocities others have committed. Do you find that these visions and dreams affect other aspects of your life? For example, your ability to bond with others or the quality of your sleep?” Will nodded, taking another sip of his wine.

“I don’t bond with others, but I don’t believe it’s just my ability to read them. Although I can’t really shut it off, I can make conscious attempts to avoid thinking as the people I’m with. I don’t really like being sociable, though. It’s a rare thing for me to want to be around others. Sleep… that’s another matter. I can’t choose how my mind decides to take out the trash, so to speak. I have night terrors from time to time. On really bad cases, like the Shrike case you mentioned, I go through bouts of sleepwalking. It can get severe enough that I feel like I’m losing my mind.” He put a hand to the side of his neck, suddenly self conscious of how much he had just shared. Not meeting the doctor’s eyes, he went on.

“I haven’t been able to talk with anybody about it since the Shrike. My last therapist effectively fired me after she stated I gave her nightmares. I don’t like any of the bureau therapists, so I’ve completely avoided them unless Jack makes me see them. It helps him if he things he can continue to throw me into the fray with a clear conscience. I don’t do well with being psychoanalyzed, and that seems to be all they want to do. Figure out what makes me tick so they can be the one that cracked Will Graham’s skills wide open.” The bitterness in his voice caught him off guard; he hadn’t realized how much he resented that particular behavior until that moment. He glanced at Hannibal, expecting him to show some sign of being taken aback at the abuse of his profession, but the look on his face instead showed sympathy and mild concern.

“Have any of the therapists you’ve worked with helped you develop skills that will allow you ground yourself effectively if you were to ever become lost within the fantasies you are forced to reconstruct?” Will sighed and shook his head.

“No, none of them seem interested in helping me. Only figuring me out.” Hannibal nodded and stood up, talking as he moved behind Will’s chair. Will instantly tensed, unsure of what to expect but certain it was going to be something to do with explaining to him that he had to deal with the fact that his gift could be useful, helpful to others if he could figure out how to deal with it. He was surprised when Hannibal’s hands descended upon his shoulders instead. When the doctor spoke again, it was directly into his ear, low and soothing. 

“Relax. I’m not going to hurt you and I won’t belittle your struggles by attempting to explain their worth to the psychological or forensics communities. If no therapist has effectively assisted you in mitigating the effects of your empathetic ability, we do not deserve the rewards of understanding how it happens. I want to help you build a barrier in your mind, a way of laying a breadcrumb trail to follow should you ever become lost. For this exercise, I will need you to relax, and to trust me. Can you do that?” The fingers on his shoulders began to knead the tense muscles beneath them; slow, deep pressure that made Will groan. The fingers danced upwards, working along the delicate muscles of his neck and at the base of his skull. They wove their way into his hair, caressing his head and worked back down across his neck and shoulders to the muscles of his upper back. Each knot that was discovered was held with pressure until it loosened, making him feel boneless and completely at the mercy of his companion.

“I-…” Will groaned as Hannibal’s fingers found a particularly tender knot beneath his shoulder blade. The doctor’s voice appeared once more in his ear.

“That’s it... just relax. You are taut as a bowstring right now. Let me help you, Will. Please.” Will moaned tightly, feeling the tension in his spine release into the other man’s capable hands. Long minutes went by with no words, only the whisper of fingers over clothing and their breathing, Will’s tightening when Hannibal grazed a knot. The effect was both completely and utterly comforting and so arousing that the profiler was having a difficult time focusing on anything except the hands on his back and neck. _I want his hands on my skin. What would it feel like to have him touch me?_

“You seem to have relaxed sufficiently to attempt this exercise. Are you comfortable enough to continue?” Will groaned out his ascent and Hannibal chuckled in his ear, causing a jolt of electricity to travel down his stomach, straight into his cock. _God, please don’t let him find out how turned on I am. I don’t need to embarrass us both. Rein it in, Graham._ He was hard as iron beneath his jeans and both grateful and regretful for wearing such tight material. The press against his flesh felt wonderful, but it wasn’t helping him get himself under control. Hannibal’s voice sounded like silk over steel, his accent adding a sensual overlay to his deep voice.

“Close your eyes for me, Will. I want you to picture the place in your world where you can be still. The place that gives you the most control. Do you have a location in mind?” Will nodded. Closing his eyes, he brought to the forefront his favorite place in the world. The calm waters of his favorite stream filled his senses, the water’s quiet sounds bubbling around him as he immersed himself in Hannibal’s gentle commands.

“Excellent. Now, keep that place pictured in the back of your mind, as it’s a good way to escape anything that may cause irreparable damage to your psyche. The other half is meant to bring you back into yourself, from any place your mind may be trapped. Are you prepared to try?”

“Yes. What do I need to do?”

“It will sound very simple, and with practice, I believe it will be very helpful to you. Please repeat these four questions and their responses in your mind, but hold onto the image you currently have. What is your name?” Hannibal waited for a response, regarding the serene mask that graced Will’s face _. He’s so pleasing to the eye. I could gaze at him like this for hours and never grow weary of the sight._

Will laughed, bemused. “What?”

“Humor me, and give me your answers out loud but as if you were talking to yourself. What is your name?”

“My name is Will Graham.”

“Excellent, now where are you? Not in your mind, but your physical body.”

“I’m sitting in a chair in Hannibal Lecter’s office.”

“Good. Now why are you here?” Will opened his eyes, and the breath caught in Hannibal’s throat as the heat in his gaze spilled in his direction. _Lord, those eyes. What I wouldn’t give to have that gaze upon me for an entirely different reason. Is this how you appear when you are aroused, dear Will?_

“I am here because I was invited by a man I just met to dine in his home so he could teach me some unfamiliar coping mechanisms to use after he saw me become overwhelmed in the field after reading a crime scene.” The raw honesty in the statement made Hannibal’s heart squeeze, tightening his breath in his throat. Careful to betray nothing, he cursed the slight tremor of affection in his next words.

“Good. Exactly so. And last one, which is simultaneously the easiest and the most grounding. What time is it?” Will smiled and looked at his watch. His eyes widened in surprise. “It’s currently 11:04PM and I’ve taken up hours of my companion’s time. I should probably think about going soon, no matter how comfortable I am.”

Hannibal’s chest tightened at the thought of the other man taking his leave. The evening had slipped past, leaving him feeling as if time was bending and flowing around them, moving at such a great speed that their hours together had flashed by in the blink of an eye. He picked up his glass and drained the last of the wine, then stood and held a hand out to help the younger man from his chair. Will took it and Hannibal allowed the contact to send a pleasant warmth shooting up his spine.

“You may be correct, but there is one more event for this evening that I simply cannot, in good conscience, allow you to pass up.” Will’s eyes widened fractionally, his pupils dilating until they were softly swollen with want with only a sliver of his iris visible beneath the solid orbs of black. Hannibal smiled, keeping his hand, and lead him towards the door, sorely disappointed they weren’t going to get what they both so obviously needed. _Not this early in the game, or part of the chase will have been completed. And where is the enjoyment in a hunt where the quarry has already been caught and consumed?_

***

Will had never tasted any confection so heavenly as the Panna Cotta tart he was currently consuming. The sounds coming from him must have been obscene with the looks Hannibal was giving him, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. The food he made was exquisite, decadent without being overwhelming, in perfect portions that were served with the plating finesse of an upscale restaurant. Hannibal regarded him with affection, watching as he ate his dessert with a rare abandon.

“How did the technique I walked you through feel once completed? Do you feel it may be helpful when you are once again in a stressful situation?” Will thought through the experience, and nodded.

“I think it would be easier to come back from wherever I am if I can remember to use those questions. In the moment, I’m not sure I will recall them, but I will try.” Hannibal nodded thoughtfully, chasing the last of the berry sauce off his plate with his fork. He felt Will’s eyes follow his movements as he slid the fork into his mouth, leaving it where it was for a beat longer than was normal. Will met his heated gaze and blushed.

“I believe I will have a conversation in the near future with Jack about ensuring I am with you when you are assisting with cases. I can both provide insight into what you see as well as ensure you don’t push yourself too far over the precipice that you cannot be retrieved. Will stilled as he finished his dessert.

“You’d do that?” Hannibal smiled and placed a hand on the younger man’s arm, noting the jump in his pulse as he did so. _I would go to immeasurable lengths to keep you safe_.

“Yes. It is especially important to ensure you are fit for assisting with cases when necessary, and I can only ensure it if I am there with you. Do you object to my presence?” Will’s eyes drifted down the doctor’s earnest face and snagged on his mouth before he met his gaze. 

“No. I feel better knowing you plan to be there. I think that, above everything, will help me remain calm. A shoulder to lean on.” Hannibal grinned and squeezed Will’s arm before sitting back in his chair.

“While I cannot guarantee the massage each time, I can find ways to distract you if necessary.” Will blushed and stood, picking up his plate to take it to the kitchen.

“Yeah, going boneless on a case might not be such a good idea. Can you imagine the looks we’d get?” Hannibal laughed and followed the younger man.

“That, dear Will, is the least of my worries.”

***

When Will got home, he let himself into the house and let the dogs into the back yard. Half of him felt as if it was missing, left in the comfortable home, held in place by a warm gaze, strong hands and a smoky, affectionate voice guiding him through his breathing. Their goodbye had lasted another 30 minutes of small stories and anecdotes, neither wanting to be the one to call it quits, but understanding the necessity. Hannibal had placed a hand on his back as he guided him out of the door, and the handshake they shared had lingered until it was as if they were holding hands, rather than bidding one another farewell. He wasn’t sure what to make of the contact, but playing over the night, all he knew is he wanted _more_. It was unwise to get involved with anybody he worked with, let alone someone who could get so far into his head, but as he closed his eyes, he came to the realization that it may be impossible to avoid.

As he removed his clothing, he caught a scent that didn’t belong to him. Smiling, he held his shirt to his face, inhaling the clinging scent of Hannibal’s cologne. It warmed his blood to find it there, comforting and arousing. He climbed into bed and after a moment’s hesitation, brought the shirt that smelled of the doctor with him. _Nobody will know I’ve become so enraptured. It can be my secret._ As he fell asleep, he wrapped the memories of the evening around him; a blanket to keep out the usual insanity that ensued. 

***

Hannibal Lecter took his time cleaning up after Will left, his mind perusing the events that had transpired while the man was in his home. The small, perfunctory touches to gauge his reaction to intimacy, the feel of the other man relaxing a little more with each that landed, their dinner conversation and, much to his surprise, opening up to some of his own painful memories. He had been fascinated with the open and honest way Will had explained his gift. The memory of massaging his shoulders, loosening his muscles, caused his hands to tingle. Will had relaxed so beautifully for him, the groans when he found each tender spot and worked it loose had made his knees weak. The profiler had been extraordinarily tense, and the entire experience had been beyond the doctor’s wildest imaginings. 

Once the kitchen was clean, he padded upstairs, intent on showering and getting a good night’s rest. The hot beat of the water stung pleasantly along his muscles, but he couldn’t ignore how much more sensitive his skin felt. Soaping up his hands, he let them move slowly down his body, idly washing as he continued his mental perusal of the night’s events. Closing his eyes, he let his imagination wander. In his mind, he let the hands on his skin become Will’s. He felt his cock begin to thicken, straining at the thought of the other man’s slightly calloused fingers gliding along his chest, massaging the muscles, grazing his nipples until they peaked in the warm air. He let the fingers wander down his stomach, tracing his abdomen as he tipped his head back into the water. _Yes. I want this._ His breath came in short, desperate gasps as he took his cock into his hand, shuddering at the contact to his overly sensitive skin. A moan escaped his throat as he stroked, his mind placing his body in Will’s hands, the profiler’s breath hot in his ear. _Wanted you all night. You feel so good, so hard for me. Rock into my hands, Hannibal. Moan for me._

With a surprised shout he came, thick ropes dripping from his fingers as he shook, lightheaded with the suddenness and intensity of his release. He felt himself relax, his skin hot and sensitive he stroked his cock, working every ounce of pleasure as he whispered the name of the man who was now fueling his fevered imaginings. _Will, Will, Will. I want your hands, your mouth, your body. I want you to be mine._

Exhausted, he shut the water off and climbed out of the shower. As he toweled dry and attended to his teeth, he wondered what Will was doing, if he was as affected. He slipped beneath the sheets, sleep already pulling at his sated psyche. As he drifted, the last thought that came to him made his stomach tighten. He was truly and utterly fucked.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all of the beautiful, wonderful souls that have commented and sent me kudos on this piece. It means more than you could know. <3


	4. Ask

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the long wait for an update. My workload in my actual job finally caught up with me and I had to get some sleep. Next update this weekend. <3

_“Someone I loved once gave me_   
_A box full of darkness._   
_It took me years to understand_   
_That this too, was a gift.”_   
_-Mary Oliver_

* * *

_Warm. Mmm._ Will woke with a start, the dream he had been having clinging to him like the gossamer threads of a web. There had been hands and mouths and a decidedly male body moving with his, warm and alive and so real that he felt the aching loss of it when he opened his eyes. The effects from his dinner and session with Hannibal were still working their magic on his mind; the doctor had the starring role in his fantasies whether awake or not. Shaking his head, Will stretched, a slow smile gracing his face as he woke his muscles. He felt better than he had in longer than he could remember; clear headed and well rested. He got up and headed to the kitchen and, inspired by the night before, prepared his first real breakfast in months. Pulling out his notepad, he began the preliminary notes on the vampire case, contemplating what Hannibal might be able to add to the profile. _I’ll have to find time before the lecture to ask him. Maybe for lunch._ He smiled at the thought.

Once he stepped out the shower, Will once again took more care with his appearance than his normal utilitarian style, choosing a black button down that made his eyes stand out in stark contrast, and a pair of slim cut light grey slacks. The effect of the dressier attire was striking; he looked more self aware and relaxed than he had in years. He chose a deep purple tie, sliding it over his shirt and knotting it absentmindedly. As he finished his morning routine, he ran a comb through his now dry curls to soften them, unconsciously adding a soft allure to the sharply professional persona he now exuded. Whistling, he grabbed his coffee and keys, fed his dogs, and left the house. As he began the drive to the Bureau, his mind wandered to the little details of their evening; the quality of the food, the low timbre of Hannibal’s voice in his ear as his clever hands worked the tension out of Will’s back. The story of his sister. The vulnerability in his face and affection he clearly had for the girl was oddly affecting. Will got the idea that Hannibal didn’t choose to open up to, let alone care for many people. It made him feel special, safe. He couldn’t wait to see what their day had in store.

***

Jack was waiting for him in his office when he arrived. Setting down his briefcase, he put away his lunch before giving him his attention, his mind still on thoughts of Hannibal’s fingers on his shoulders. Jack simply sat and waited, looking contrite, eyes anywhere but Will’s face. Will sighed and sat, regarding the other man.

“Good morning, Will. Still hiding your lunch I see.” Will grinned.

“Yes, once anybody in this office gains the knowledge that I cooked, it’s a free for all. We don’t need any bloodshed over duck salad. To what do I owe such an early visit to my office?”

“How are you feeling after yesterday’s crime scene? You seemed agitated when you left and I wanted to check on you.” Will’s mouth quirked up on one side, now understanding Jack’s intentions; he wanted to clear his conscience on how he was handling the profiler. _Or did someone else have something to say about it?_ He stretched his arms behind his head and leaned back in his seat.

“I’m feeling fine, Jack. Admittedly, this kind of work takes its toll on me mentally some days. In fact, sometimes I feel like I’m losing my mind. Yesterday wasn’t one of those days, though. I may actually have less of them in the future thanks to Hannibal. I had a lengthy discussion with him yesterday, and I think he may be able able to help me establish some mental barriers so I can keep myself from becoming trapped in the thick of it.” Jack’s eyebrows raised.

“I didn’t realize you two had discussed it at length yet.” The grin grew wider. _Why, Jack, I found the time since you placed him so conveniently in my path._

“We talked about it on the way back to the Bureau after we left the scene. He drove me, remember?” Will was oddly reluctant to bring up the fact that they had also spent several hours in each other’s company after they had retired for the evening. It seemed too personal to share just yet. _Too special_. Jack nodded placated.

“Did he explain these techniques to you enough that you might be able to test them on another case in the near future?” Will nodded.

“Good. I look forward to seeing it in action.”

“You will soon enough, I’m sure. Can’t keep the psychopaths from committing crimes, which means I’ll be needed sooner rather than later.” Jack laughed, nodding.

“Are you going to present a lecture on the Blood Drinker of Baltimore, as Freddie Lounds has taken to calling our newest member of the psychopathic community?” Will rolled his eyes and groaned.

“Jesus, Jack. Is that the best name she could come up with? It sounds like a ten year old thought it up and she just happened to be passing by. How utterly tasteless.”

“And what could be so displeasing that you need speak of it before beginning your day?” The cultured voice from the door reached Will’s ears and passed through his being, soothing him like a salve. He smiled at the man framed in the doorway, subtly taking in his appearance. His breath caught in his throat at the sight. Hannibal was dressed in a simple black three piece suit, well tailored with clean, crisp lines. A classic white shirt and dark red tie completed the outfit. The pocket square in his breast pocket matched the tie to perfection. Will’s vision blurred for a moment as he envisioned hauling the doctor by that tie and into a bruising kiss. _Want to taste you._ He sat up in his seat and cleared his throat, reining in his wandering imagination.

“We were just discussing Freddie Lounds. She runs the website Tattle Crimes. She gave the vampire a ridiculous moniker; the Blood Drinker of Baltimore. It sounds like something out of a kid’s book of scary stories.” Hannibal grimaced.

“I am unfortunately familiar with Ms. Lounds’s work. I agree with you, Will. Her journalism and nicknames tend to be lacking in both taste and creativity. It’s an unhappy circumstance that she’s already gotten wind of this particular string of killings. This is no shy boy. He will see his name in the papers and it will drive him to act to ensure it stays that way.” Jack shook his head, already looking five years older than he had Will had found him in his office. He reached out and patted the other man’s arm reassuringly.

“It’s fine, Jack. Let Lounds run her story. I was planning on going through the case notes that we have already gathered so I can present a lecture. I’d like it if everyone within the department can be spared to sit in. I plan on giving it this afternoon, once I’ve corroborated a few details. Doctor Lecter, if you’re not busy, I’d like you to go over your thoughts on this killer’s pathology with me, so I can be sure I cover all angles of his profile. I already have my notes written out for it.”

Hannibal nodded his ascent. “Hannibal, please. And I’d be happy to look over your notes and confer with you after my first patient consultation of the day has concluded.”

“Actually, do you mind if we make it a working lunch? I’m going to have back to back lectures discussing other methods for detecting pathologies at crime scenes this morning and won’t have much of a break beforehand.” Hannibal smiled and leaned casually into the doorway.

“Absolutely. It will give me some time to gather my thoughts so I may assist you in painting an adequate picture of this killer. I shall have my notes prepared at noon sharp. Does that suit?” Will grinned, nodding. He removed the sheaf of papers he’d been working on during breakfast from his briefcase and held them out. Hannibal stepped into the room and took the folder. Their fingers met briefly, Hannibal’s index finger caressing the other man’s skin as the folder was exchanged. It took every ounce of willpower the profiler had not to moan out loud. The small smile on Hannibal’s face as he flipped his notes open made it perfectly clear he knew the effect he was having on the younger man.

“I will get back with you this afternoon. Jack? You are my first appointment of the morning. Would you like to follow me, or do you have more to discuss here?” Jack stood, and nodding at Will, followed Doctor Lecter to his office. Will took a deep, steadying breath, willing the fire that sang along his nerves at the contact to ease. He had a lecture in 15 minutes and couldn’t very well speak to a group of FBI agents about bite patterns with an erection. _Get your shit together, Graham. You have work to do._

***

“You seem to be getting along very well with Will. What’s your secret?” Hannibal inhaled the scent of the coffee he held in his hands, enjoying the rich aroma of the Blue Mountain blend as it eased through his senses. He took a careful sip before setting his cup aside.

“Do you find yourself having a difficult time with your working relationships, Jack?” The other man smiled, sipping the coffee Hannibal had offered when he entered the room. He made a noise in the back of his throat, closing his eyes as the light, smooth taste rolled tantalizingly over his tongue.

“Christ, I don’t think I’ll be able to drink instant coffee ever again. Am I being spoiled?” Hannibal laughed.

“No Jack, I simply prefer the taste of what I would like, rather than what I will settle for. And to answer your question, what you are currently drinking is a Number 1 Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee. The beans grown there were first harvested in the Caribbean in the early 1700s and have since been one of the most sought after coffee variations in the world, noted for the smooth, non acidic taste they provide. I would be happy to provide you with a cup whenever you visit my office.” Jack took another drink, the enjoyment plain on his face.

“I wouldn’t offer, Doctor Lecter, or I will be in here twice a day.”

“So be it, Agent Crawford. Unfortunately, it does mean you will need to answer a few questions each time you are here. It will ensure we keep up the appearances that you are present to partake of my services as a psychiatrist and not simply for my selective choices in coffee.” Jack laughed.

“That would probably be wise. What was the question you asked before?”

“Do you find yourself having a difficult time building and maintaining your working relationships?”

“Oh. No, not really. More that I don’t understand Will’s thinking the way you seem to. You two have been thick as thieves since yesterday. You seem to have an interesting effect on his abilities and how they affect him. Nobody has been able to talk him into walking a scene. He pays it a visit or he doesn’t. Most of the time, it seems to take a larger piece out of him than I would like to see happen to him. He’s… fragile.” Hannibal glanced down, making notes on their discussion for his files.

“Will is a singular individual in the regard that he feels every incident to which he is exposed with all of his being. It’s both what makes him incredibly good at his job and internally self destructive when the images he witnesses are unsavory in nature. Perception is a tool that is pointed on both ends, and without a way to channel that energy out into the universe, he will eventually mentally cannibalize. His mind may destroy itself in pursuit of the criminal element. I believe it would be prudent to both choose his cases wisely and ensure he has the proper mental arsenal for defending against the worst of what he feels. We have begun progress towards such a tool box, but it will take time and practice. For now, until I can ensure that he has a firm grasp on how to handle those emotions and visions, it would be best I accompany him when he plans to read a scene. I can help with both confirming his theories and grounding him in reality so he does not cause any harm to himself.”

Jack stroked his chin, taking another sip of coffee. Closing his eyes, he sighed. “I can understand the concern, and believe that would be the best approach as well. I don’t know what details you know about the Shrike case, but in the interest of ensuring Will is protected, I would like to provide you with some additional information that may help you understand what happened to him out in the field. I need your utmost discretion in revealing that we discussed the matter, though. Will is exceedingly sensitive about what occurred on that case, and I only risk breaking his confidence to ensure you have the information you need to help him.” Hannibal regarded the other man with sharp eyes, features grave.

“You can rest assured that Will need not know that we have discussed his previous cases.” Jack sighed and stood, pacing the room as he spoke.

“The Shrike case was the first time I took Will out into the field since he left the police force to teach. He’s always had a particularly difficult time pulling the trigger, even when his life depends on it. That case though… it got to him in ways I’ve never been able to fully explain. Something inside of him cracked, and when it did, some of the darkness that he’s absorbed over the years on cases like what we wade through every day… It leaked out. He was the first on the scene at the Hobbs house, following up on a lead. When he arrived, the wife was on the porch, her throat slit. He walked in on him trying to kill his daughter.” Jack swallowed hard, the click in his throat audible in the hushed quiet of Hannibal’s office. “He shot Garrett Jacob Hobbs ten times in the chest. When we found him, he was trying to staunch the blood flow on the girl’s neck. That case took a big piece of him, Doctor. I don’t know if it’s something he’s going to get back. I know that I don’t want him to lose any more pieces, either.”

Hannibal continued to take notes, mulling over this new information and insight into what had happened during the Shrike case. _For all my knowledge and forethought, I may not need to push you towards the dark. You may have a foothold there already, my dear Will._

“Thank you for sharing that information with me, Jack. It has become more obvious that Will is going to need my assistance with his cases moving forward. Please do not take him out into the field unless I am available to accompany him. When we had our preliminary discussions after the scene yesterday, he told me in no small words that the cases ‘take bites out of him’. I’d prefer him to gain something of himself back than lose what little he so desperately clings to. Right now, it is most important that we protect him when he is out, in any way possible." He regarded the man seated at his desk, meeting his gaze and holding it. "That also means he is not to go on your man hunts for these killers. It is enough that you glean the insight you do. You have other capable agents that can take to the streets in pursuit. Are we agreed?”

Jack opened his mouth to argue, but no sound came out. Breathing the air in his lungs out through his nostrils, he nodded, staring at the floor as he did so. “I understand his role may no longer take him as far as I’d like to send him. I will defer to your judgment on what he can do, and what he can’t.”

Hannibal nodded and stood, shaking Jack’s hand. “I believe our time is up for now. Please rest assured that I will do all in my power to ensure Will can do his job to the best of his ability. The next session we have, we will be discussing you instead of Will. Next week?” Taking the doctor’s hand, the other man grinned.

“I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep you out of my head, doctor. And thank you for your help with this. I’m looking forward to seeing what you and Will can accomplish together.” Hannibal grinned, moving towards the door to his office to hold it open for Jack as he passed through to the hall.

“As am I, Jack. As am I.”

***

“I believe you are correct in the assessment of this killer. There are only a few minor details I believe you may want to add to your profile. I’ve outlined them here for you.” The two men sat in Hannibal’s office, lunch all but abandoned as they went over the notes Will would be using for his lecture. Hannibal highlighted the parts he contributed, emphasizing each with a footnote discussing why it should be added into each section. Will read over each, more and more impressed with the Doctor’s insight into what he himself had drafted up. The second pad between them held their combined notes, far more complete than what either man had drafted on his own.

“I really appreciate your insight, Doctor. I agree that it’s important to note the way the hands cross on each victim, the identical posing. Allowing enough time for rigor to set in before the corpses is found. He has impeccable timing for their discoveries.” Hannibal nodded, taking a sip of tea from the thermos at his side.

“I believe we have painted as complete a picture as we can of this Blood Drinker. I’d set aside your notes for now. Let’s finish eating, shall we?” Will nodded, piling his notes on the edge of the desk as he pulled the crisp duck salad he had prepared towards him. Hannibal’s eyes lit up, taking in the ingredients in the other man’s dish. Will regarded him with amusement, nodding in silent ascent for Hannibal to take a bite. Watching him select his morsel and slide it into his mouth was gratifying. The sounds he made as the flavors burst over his palate were enough to tighten the slacks Will was wearing.

“We must take the time to cook together again, and soon. Your culinary skills are the first to rival my own in many years, and I would love the chance to create something unique together. We can choose the ingredients the day we cook so I don’t have the opportunity to overrun the menu with my own selections.” Will snagged another scallop from the doctor’s dish, holding his eyes as he bit down. Chewing thoughtfully, he swallowed before replying.

“I’d like that very much. When would be the most convenient time for you? My calendar is usually open. I don’t particularly care for company after the work I do all day.” Hannibal nodded sympathetically, selecting another morsel from Will’s salad.

“Does Friday evening suit? That way, we can have additional time to discuss the week and anything that may arise in the time between now and then without the risk of an early morning the following day.” Will nodded, finishing off the last of his dish before Hannibal could do it for him.

“That will work out well. I’ll head home and feed the dogs, then head over if that works for you. That way, you aren’t left to your own devices for too long and you come up with something to cook without me.” Hannibal laughed and stood, holding out a hand to help the other man stand as well. Their fingers lingered, the touch warm and fond. Will cleared his throat and turned towards the door.

“I’d better go put together this lecture. You’re welcome to sit in on it, if you don’t have another patient today. I know you’re still getting your footing, but it may make an easy way for you to make your introductions. I planned on throwing your name into the talk anyway, so others know to reach out if they need some assistance.” Hannibal grinned.

“A referral from the finest profiler in the Bureau office? What a commendation. It happens that I will have the time to sit in this afternoon. As you said, my books are still open thus far, but I don’t believe they will be for long." Hannibal paused, considering his next words carefully. "On that note, I should inform you that during Jack’s session today, we have come to the agreement that if you are called to a crime scene, you will not be going without being accompanied by me. Moving forward, I believe it’s pertinent that we are together to combat the dark, should it arise when you are doing your job.” Will smiled, touched.

“How did Jack take the news that I am to have a babysitter?” Hannibal put a hand on his shoulder, drawing the profiler’s attention. Staring into the pure, pale blue of his eyes, his breath stuttered slightly as he reached for a response. _What you do to me._

“You do not need a babysitter, Will. You need a friend, a confidant. Someone who understands why this is difficult for you. I hope that in our discussions in the future, you can talk about the issues from your previous cases so I can help you face and move past them. The less you hold onto, the more you can see, but it’s not something you’re capable of doing on your own just yet. One day, perhaps. But not now. That’s where you will have me to rely on.” Will’s gaze was distant, unfocused as he spoke.

“I appreciate your concern. I just hope I don’t lose as much of myself as I have been.” Hannibal’s hand circled his wrist, thumb grazing his pulse point. Up, down. Gentle strokes. Their eyes met as the doctor spoke.

“You will not lose yourself. I will hold you together.” Will’s eyes slipped closed, lips parted as he let himself feel the stroke of Hannibal’s fingers, the gentle, reassuring touches. _I am here. I care what happens to you._

“Your concern means a great deal to me. You have no idea how comforting it is, knowing I won’t be standing on the edge alone.” He stepped back reluctantly, gathering the papers he’d need for his lecture. Turning back from the door, he regarded the other man. Hannibal met his gaze, a little heat entering his own. He moved across the room to open the door, guiding Will through with a gentle hand on his back, just enough to feel the play of muscle as he moved. _I want you._

“We will speak later, either after your lecture or this evening. Here.” He produced a business card from his pocket and slipped it into the folder Will was holding. “This has my cellular phone number on it. We will be able to converse at any time. I am always available to you, and my door is always open.” Will grinned.

“Does this mean I can text you and you’ll reply?” Hannibal nodded, amused.

“Of course. If that’s your preferred method of conversation when we are apart, I would be happy to respond.” Will nodded, and turned, making his way to his own office. Setting his dishes down, he opened the folder and pocketed the business card. Picking up his notes, he made his way back into the hall intending on walking to the lecture hall with the doctor, but Hannibal was nowhere in sight.

***

“That was an incredibly detailed profile, Will. Nice work. I have a feeling we are going to catch this guy quickly!” The junior agent speaking to him clapped him on the shoulder, causing Will to start. Physical contact made him uncomfortable, but he tried to take it in stride in situations like this. Nodding, he circled the podium, making his way over to where Jack and Doctor Alana Bloom, the head of the psychiatrists for the violent crimes unit stood conversing. They turned in his direction as he approached, both smiling at him.

“That was some lecture, Will. It seems like you’ve got this one well figured out. Glad to see you so firmly seated in the saddle.” Will grinned.

“I worked with Doctor Lecter on the profile. He had a good deal of insight on the finer details. We created a more complete picture of what to look for together.” 

“I provided a few points of interest. Not nearly as much as the framework Will already had established.” The doctor approached their group, shaking Jack’s hand. Eyeing Alana, he nodded. “Good to see you again, Doctor Bloom.” Alana smiled.

“Hello Hannibal. I’m happy to see you’re settling in here so quickly. The bureau isn’t always the easiest place to get your footing.” Hannibal nodded.

“It was more a trial by fire with what was already going on when I arrived, but I seem to be settling into a routine with few issues. Let’s make some time this week to discuss the division of patients you’d like me to oversee so I can get them on my schedule.” Alana nodded.

“Of course. I’d be happy to hand over two thirds of my workload to you. Free up more of my time for my own personal endeavors." She smiled genially, glancing at Will. "I hear you’ve taken a special interest in Will. I believe you two working together will be an excellent match. Please let me know if you need any support from me.” Will flushed. Only Hannibal seemed to notice, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Thank you, that’s very kind. We can discuss it in our meeting this week." He glanced at his watch, his eyes widening a fraction. "I’m afraid I have a patient waiting, so I will take my leave. Will, excellent lecture. I look forward to discussing it with you at length on Friday.” Hannibal turned and moved from the room, striding with an easy grace that turned heads as he passed.

Will watched him go, then turned to the two remaining at his side.

“I have some notes to finish up for tomorrow. I’m headed to my office. Please let me know if you have any questions about today’s information.” Alana and Jack nodded, watching the other man leave the room. Alana spoke first, her voice thoughtful.

“Is it me, or does he already seem better somehow? More confident and calmer.” Jack nodded.

“Yes, he did some work with Doctor Lecter after he read a crime scene for me yesterday. He seems to calm him a great deal, rein in his focus. If this continues, there’s no telling what Will is going to be able to do.” Alana nodded, smiling.

“That’s good to hear. Please let me know if you need any support from my team, Jack. We are always happy to help.”

***

Will entered his office, and flipping on the light, he opened his filing cabinet to file away his lecture notes. He sat down at his desk, his mind wandering back to the lecture itself. He felt good about the information he provided, confident it would be helpful in apprehending the Blood Drinker. He leaned his head back, stretching his hands behind his head as he did so. The proud and possessive look on Hannibal’s face as he went over the finer points of the case were burned into his mind, warming his blood. _Christ, why am I so attracted to him?_ Sighing, he decided to do the remainder of his work at home that evening. He gathered the files he’d need for his lectures the following day and put them in his briefcase, then shut off the lights to his office and made his way to his vehicle. 

The ride home was quiet, and Will was glad for it. The day had been busy with discussions of particulars for other cases, plus the Blood Drinker case. He wanted to go home and relax, put his feet up and close his eyes. _A glass of whiskey and an easy dinner are going to be just the ticket._ Getting to the house, he let himself in and was instantly surrounded by a sea of fur, begging for his attention after his long absence the night before. Will sat down on the floor and gave himself over to petting and scratching ears for several long minutes before letting the dogs outside. Making his way to his room, he changed out of his work clothes and into a pair of comfortable flannel pants and a white t shirt. _Fuck tomorrow’s lectures. I’ll worry about them in the morning. Its been a long day._

Calling the dogs in, he fed them before opening the refrigerator to find food for himself. Something easy. Smiling, he pulled out what remained of the crispy duck he was meant to eat for lunch the next day, laughing to himself at the memory of Hannibal stealing morsels from his plate. He warmed it on the stovetop and added it to a fresh plate of greens, goat cheese, dates and a balsamic dressing to top it. Pouring himself a glass of water, he took his meal to the living room, intent on relaxing while he ate. 

As he took the first bite, his mind wandered back to the doctor. _I wonder what he is doing right now?_ Suddenly remembering the business card he was given, he padded to the bedroom to retrieve it from his pants pocket. Picking up his phone, he debated on what he should text. This kind of casual contact had never come easy to him, but he couldn’t stop himself from trying. He carefully typed the number in, checking it several times before hitting send. 

[08:04PM] **Hey Hannibal. This is Will. I wanted to ensure I added your number in correctly. WG**

He waited, turning his phone over and placing it on the couch next to him, trying to quell his nerves. A moment later he heard a quiet ping as a text came through. His heart pounding he unlocked his phone.

[08:07PM] _Good evening, Will. I was beginning to wonder if I would hear from you this evening, with all of your alluding to ‘texting’ me. -HL_

Will grinned, touched that Hannibal had been thinking about him. He’s even elegant over text.

[08:07PM] **I didn’t want to bother you on your time away from work. I can imagine it’s as hard to turn off for you as it is for me. WG**

[08:09PM] _And what have I said that makes you believe I think of our conversations as work? -HL_

[08:11PM] **Maybe I just assumed? WG**

[08:11PM] _Ah. You know what they say about assumptions, do you not? -HL_

Will laughed at the cheek, smirking as he fired off another reply.

[08:13PM] **Are you saying I’m an ass, Doctor Lecter? -WG**

The ping of a new text made his stomach tingle and he was already grinning before he read it. _Jesus, I’m behaving like a 16 year old girl._

[08:14PM] _I wasn’t saying it, merely alluding to the old adage. And it’s Hannibal, please. The initials on my texts are not DL, are they? -HL_

[08:15pm] **I suppose they’re not. Why do you hate it when I call you Doctor Lecter? WG**

[08:16PM] _I do not necessarily hate it. I prefer you to call me by my given name, as it suggests friendship and intimacy. Doctor Lecter is the name to which my patients refer me. I am not your doctor, Will. I would very much prefer our relationship to be more intimate than that of a patient. -HL_

Will’s breath caught at the admission. His fingers trembling, he typed out a reply.

[08:17PM] **So you want to be my friend? Doesn’t that go against our working relationship? WG**

[08:25PM] _I do not believe our working relationship will suffer should any closer familiarity develop. -HL_

[08:29PM] **It’s been a long time since I’ve had a friend, Hannibal. I probably won’t be very good at it. WG**

He stood and took his plate and water glass into the kitchen. He stopped to pour himself two fingers of whiskey as he returned, taking a steadying sip before reading the doctor’s reply.

[08:31PM] _You underestimate yourself, Will. We have known one another for less than 48 hours, yet according to your colleagues, you’ve been more in control of who you are than you have been in months. You are developing the skills necessary to be a true powerhouse in the field of forensic psychology and pathology. Additionally, we have managed three meals together, one in my home. My patients have not cooked with me, nor will they. We are well on our way to establishing a strong foundation for a close friendship, a foundation that can take months, or even years to build. You have nothing to fear from me, or from yourself. -HL_

[08:34PM] **Okay. I trust you. WG**

[08:35PM] _I appreciate your confidence, but it should lay within yourself as well. That will be something we can discuss in your weekly sessions if you’d like. -HL_

[08:37PM] **Doesn’t having weekly sessions with me qualify me as your patient? WG**

[08:40PM] _No. It is mandated by the Bureau that you see a psychiatrist due to the nature of your work. We have an excellent rapport, and while I may make assessments on your mental wellbeing, that is not the state of our association. I have a much closer working relationship with you than any other person within the FBI, and it would be foolish to limit our association to that of patient/doctor. -HL_

[08:42PM] **If you say so. Speaking of work associations, did you make a decision on whether you’re planning on attending their silly party? WG**

_Why did I just ask that? I don’t want to go, and I sure as hell don’t want to know if he’s planning on going with someone else._ A tightness formed in his stomach as Will waited for the response. He wished he could take the question back, but knew it was too late. The quiet ping of the new text made his stomach drop, and he picked up the phone with trembling fingers.

[08:51PM] _Interesting that you should bring it up for a second time. Are you contemplating Jack’s invitation with some seriousness, then? -HL_

[08:52PM] **No. Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t really want to go, but I know I’ll never hear the end of it from Jack if I don’t attend. WG**

[08:53PM] _May I propose a solution to this debacle? -HL_

[08:54PM] **Does your suggestion include me staying home in my pajamas? WG**

[08:55PM] _Unfortunately, it will require both a suit and a mask, much as I would love to see the look on Jack’s face if you were to show up in lounge wear. I may have a way of placating both Jack’s need for you to socialize while ensuring you won’t be uncomfortable with the amount of attention you may draw. -HL_

Will’s hands trembled as he tried to type his reply. It took several tries, but eventually, he hit send.

[08:59PM] **Get to the point, Doctor Lecter. WG**

[09:01PM] _Hannibal, please. My suggestion is simple. Attend the function with me. I can deflect any unwanted attention and assist you with grounding yourself should you become overwhelmed. We can leave at any time you would like. It will give you an excuse to avoid any unwanted advances from anybody else present. Similarly, it will prevent the same for me. -HL_

Will’s heart stuttered in his chest. _Was Hannibal suggesting they treat it as a date?_

[09:04PM] **Are you implying that if the need arise, we treat it as a date? WG**

[09:06PM] _You’re being tedious, Will. -HL_

Will laughed, picturing the other man in his office, in a chair by the fire, shaking his head at the phone.

[09:07PM] **Fine. I’ll go, but only if you promise not to ditch me if you get a more enticing offer. Also, I don’t have anything that will be suitable to wear to that kind of event, seeing as I’ve avoided them for the past 5 years. I’ll have to go shopping (which I also hate). WG**

[09:10PM] _We already have time set aside for another session on Friday. You’re most welcome to stay in my guest room, and we can take care of the suit necessity on Saturday. That is, of course, if you do not have any prior engagements planned for Saturday. -HL_

[09:11PM] _And rest assured, you have no need to fear me leaving your side for the evening. I will be there for you and no other reason. -HL_

Will’s heart warmed, squeezing in his chest at the words on his screen, so obviously laced with sincerity. He drained the rest of his whiskey and padded to his bedroom, pulling down the covers. Removing his flannels, he climbed into bed and turned off the light. The glow from his phone made the conversation as intimate as it felt, wrapping him in a cocoon where he could safely examine his feelings. Hannibal in a suit and mask at his side all evening? _Yes. God, yes please. Even as friends._

[09:16PM] **Thanks, Hannibal. I’ll pack a bag before I head over to your place, then. Don’t worry, I’ll pack it the night before so I don’t leave you in your kitchen by yourself for too long. Lunch tomorrow? WG**

[09:17PM] _I would never presume to select a menu we already decided we would choose together. And of course. I will confer with you in the morning to ensure the time remains open as I schedule patients and you work out your lecture schedule. Have you any additional profiles we will need to discuss? -HL_

[09:19PM] **Actually, I do. New case, three victims so far. Surgical, organ removal. I’d like to discuss it with you in person. I’m in bed and would prefer not to have the nightmares, if at all possible. WG**

[09:20PM] _Do your nightmares occur frequently? -HL_

Will’s heart squeezed at the concern for him, present into the words as he heard them spoken in his head.

[09:22PM] **Often enough, but more so when the violence of several cases compounds. I try very hard to not think about work for the hour before I go to sleep. WG**

[09:22PM] _My apologies for bringing it up. I would be happy to help, Will. There are grounding techniques for night terrors we can discuss on Friday if it suits. For tonight, may I make a suggestion? -HL_

[09:23PM] **Will this suggestion also get me into a suit? WG**

[09:24PM] _As much as I enjoy the thought, no. This will be much simpler and require no clothing. Do you have a bath as well as a shower? -HL_

Will’s blood quickened.

[09:25PM] **Yes, I have a bath. I haven’t used it in a couple of years, though. WG**

[09:25PM] _Excellent. Please fill your tub, as hot as you can stand the water. Leave the lights off, but if you have some type of diffused light, such as a candle or lantern, please use it. If not, turn your bedroom light on and close the door most of the way. -HL_

Will got up, amused, and found some candles in the kitchen. Lighting them, he turned the lights off in his bathroom and started the bath. As the steam rose, he had to admit the environment was already beginning to relax him. 

[09:35] **Okay, about to climb in. Should I do anything specific? WG**

[09:36PM] _This is a simple technique to reduce your stress levels prior to attempting sleep. I’d like you to spend the next 15 minutes laying in the water, emptying your mind of any thoughts, good or bad. Imagine a perfectly blank space, white. No sound, no visual other than white. Can you do that for me? -HL_

Will nodded to himself, typing.

[09:38PM] **Sure. I can try it. Should I text you after? WG**

[09:39PM] _Yes. I would like to know the results of the exercise. -HL_

[09:41PM] **Okay. Entering water now. Talk with you shortly. WG**

Will climbed into the steaming water, groaning as it engulfed him. He shifted until as much of his body as would fit was covered, then closed his eyes and tried to picture white. As he let his mind drift in the pleasant sensation of emptiness, other images came to the forefront. A hard chest behind him in the bath. Hands surrounding him from behind, pushing his thighs apart as fingers glided down his torso. A hot mouth on his neck, licking and biting his skin. A deep, cultured voice in his ear, soft and demanding and laced with heady arousal. His thighs unconsciously followed the pattern of his fantasy self, spreading open slightly in the water as he trailed blunt fingers down his stomach, following the path of the phantom digits. _This is not what Hannibal asked me to do._ _I am pretty sure ‘think of white space’ doesn’t mean ‘imagine me touching you in the water’._ _Fuck._

Will’s hands cut through the water as he tried to quell the images in his mind, forcing out the imaginary feeling of Hannibal’s mouth on his neck as he circled his prick with his elegant fingers. He was painfully hard, his cock pressed up against his stomach, flushed red and swollen, already dripping. He groaned, knowing it was a losing battle. _Damn him and his candlelight and hot water. I want this. I need it._ He let his mind wander right back to the fantasy, which was waiting for him at the surface of his psyche. At once, the body behind him reappeared, his thighs spread as soft lips pressed to his pulse point. Long fingers idled down his chest, circling his nipples gently as they peaked in the air. Will released a moan as his own hands trailed once again down his stomach, teasing the skin of his sides with light touches. Breath hitching, he let his fingers glide across the swollen tip of his cock, breathing hard through his gritted teeth to prevent him from coming on the spot. _Jesus, how am I this aroused?_ He ran his fingertips up his length, fingers circling when he once again reached the mushroomed head. Moaning, he gathered the moisture and pressed his length through his circled fingers, shaking as he listened to the voice inside his head. _Good, Will. Show me._ He pressed his hips up, effectively fucking his fist, his limbs shaking as the pleasure heightened. His skin tightened, his lips parting in a cry as his orgasm rushed to the surface, barreling towards his senses without warning. He came across his fist, thick stripes painting the water as he shook, the sensations so strong he was lost in them. He stroked himself until he felt emptied, a vessel for pleasure finally satiated. 

It took him a moment to come back to himself. He laughed shakily, and pulled the plug on the tub, watching as his release chased the water down the drain. Standing, he toweled off and reached for his phone. _What the hell do I tell him?_

[10:01PM] **Well, that was effective. I’m actually extremely relaxed now. WG**

[10:02PM] _I was beginning to fear you’d fallen asleep in the water. Were you able to effectively clear your mind, then? -HL_

Will checked his phone and laughed. Reaching for his toothbrush, still languidly relaxed, he typed out his reply. 

[10:04PM] **I was definitely able to find some relaxation while in the water. The candles added a perfect ambiance. WG**

[10:05PM] _That is good news. Do you believe you’ll be able to sleep without dreams? -HL_

Will smirked. _I’ll sleep better than you know, Doctor._

[10:07PM] **Yeah, I should be able to sleep without any issues. Thanks for your help, Hannibal. I really needed that. WG**

[10:08PM] _Not at all, Will. That is what friends are for. This is where I will leave you for the evening. I must also get some rest. I have new patient sessions tomorrow and it would not be beneficial to them if I were half asleep. I wish you pleasant dreams, and look forward to our lunch tomorrow. -HL_

Will grinned as he read the message again. If only you knew how helpful you were.

[10:10PM] **Sounds good. Pleasant dreams. WG**

Will checked his alarms and snuggled down into his bed. Within minutes, he was sound asleep. That night, there were no dreams to haunt him, all chased away with thoughts of Hannibal’s hands on his skin.

***

Hannibal set his phone down, and contemplated the dying fire, fingers steepled beneath his chin. His maroon and gold eyes read much between the lines of text, knowing full well what had caused Will’s change in demeanor after his bath. _But did you think of me?_

The doctor sighed and emptied his glass, then stood and moved through the quiet house to his bedroom. Donning the plastic suit he had laid out, he carefully zipped up the front, ensuring he was fully covered before turning and heading down to his basement. He would get to sleep as soon as he attended to his charge. While staring into the frightened brown eyes of the man strapped to his table, he wondered if Will had a fondness for organ meat. Already planning a simple and quick meal for his lunch tomorrow, he decided to test the waters.

“Hush now. I’ll attempt to make this as painless as possible, but it’s prudent you don’t scream.”

This didn’t seem to placate his victim, but the screaming stopped within minutes. Hannibal worked quickly to remove the meat he wanted. He carefully packaged the rest for storage. His prize for the evening sat beside his elbow as he worked. The liver was in perfect condition, just as he hoped.  



	5. Perception

_Many look; only a few see._   
_-Myles Monroe_

* * *

  
Wednesday and Thursday passed quickly and more pleasantly than any days in Will’s recent memories. Between putting together lectures on the newest serial killers on the FBI radar and spending his lunches with Hannibal, his days flew by with a comfort and ease that had never come to him before. Their lunches were a culmination of witty banter, combining notes on current cases and sharing dishes that each man had prepared. Will had all but devoured the meal Hannibal had brought the day before; a delectable green curry cooked and served in a clay pot. The flavors that had burst in perfect harmony across his tongue had been so well balanced that he closed his eyes with each bite. Hannibal’s obvious amusement danced in his maroon eyes and he used the time Will spent with his eyes closed to steal morsels of his own of the younger man’s simpler but equally well put together kidney pie. Culinary appreciation seemed to move their friendship along, bonding them in a way few understood. Many of their conversations focused on food and their enjoyment of cooking, the small pleasures of a newly procured tool or a new take on an old favorite recipe they filed away to cook together. 

Their nights were spent in text conversations, and Will often found himself grinning like a teenager any time his phone went off. Hannibal was clever, funny, and fond, his texts often including observations of Will’s habits throughout the day. Will felt cherished in ways he hadn’t experienced in his longest romantic relationships. Anyone looking in would have suspected that there was more to the professional relationship that Will and Hannibal shared. While Will did not enjoy anybody in his personal space, Hannibal broke that barrier with surprising frequency. He touched the profiler regularly, so often that Will didn’t realize it was happening anymore. It could be as light as fingertips on the back of his hand when the doctor was making a point in their discussions, an arm around his shoulder when they walked together through the corridors of the bureau, or a brush against his face when he ate with too much enthusiasm. When examined, Will realized that he wanted the proximity; he could anticipate each touch with uncanny accuracy, and he craved them like they were air. He also found himself wanting to reach for the other man, but had yet to cross that threshold.

When Friday finally came, Will woke feeling warm and relaxed, happy anticipation warming in his stomach. As he reached to shut the alarm off on his phone, he smirked at the text waiting for him.

[05:34AM] _Good morning, Will. As a reminder, please ensure you check that you’ve packed all you will need for the weekend. I’d hate for you to waste more time than necessary at your own home and leave me to my own culinary devices. -HL_

Will grinned as he typed out his reply, absently scratching his side as he pushed his way out of bed.

[06:15AM] **Good morning, Doctor Lecter. I’ve already double checked my overnight bag, but I don’t mind performing a triple check, just to be sure. Is there something in particular you are attempting to ensure I remember to bring? Also, how was your run this morning? WG**

[06:15AM] **And aren’t you forgetting something? WG**

[06:17AM] _To think after these days of familiarity, I have once again been downgraded. Hannibal, please. My run was invigorating as always, thank you for asking. May I ask what you did for exercise this morning? Please ensure you have your dress shoes with you. All other acts of forgetfulness can be remedied easily enough. -HL_

[06:17AM] _[IMG00154] And I never forget. You just merely asked before I sent, greedy and spoiled as you are becoming. -HL  
_

Hannibal had been hinting with more forceful regularity that Will should try getting in a morning workout and to entice him, he took pictures of the environment in which he went on his own runs. Every morning for the last three days showcased another beautiful landscape for Will to peruse, gorgeous and verdant, often caught in the moments as the light was just coming into the sky. Once he had gone to the park, but it was quickly abandoned for more remote locales when he discovered Will’s love for the woods. The last two days’ images were of beautiful, large trees, calm paths that begged to be explored. So far, Will still insisted he preferred his beauty sleep, but contemplated attempting an earlier hour, just to surprise Hannibal with a picture of his own. _Maybe_ _next week._

Today’s image was no exception; a fallen log that looked as if the stump would be as tall as he was, light cast grey-green in the early morning sunrise. The image was tranquil, if not a little spooky, and he could envision coming across such things during his hunting trips. _I wonder if Hannibal would go hunting with me?_

[06:21AM] **That picture makes it almost worth losing sleep. Not quite, but almost. I checked once again, and my shoes have yet to escape my bag. I promise to check one more time before I leave the house just to make sure they didn’t stage a breakout. WG**

[06:22AM] _Sarcasm is a lazy man’s weapon, Will. Are you having breakfast again, at least? -HL_

Will grinned and snapped a picture of the protein scramble in his bowl. Hannibal insisted the best start to the day was breakfast and exercise, so their exchanged images early in the morning usually had both. Today’s breakfast consisted of sun dried tomatoes, peppers, eggs and sausage. Will had a feeling the other man would be pleased, and was not disappointed by his text.

[06:25AM] _Very good, indeed. I’m delighted to see you’ve taken to consuming breakfast foods with less sugar content than that atrocity you call cereal you had yesterday. As a reward, please do not bother bringing lunch to day. I have packed sufficiently for both of us. -HL_

Will laughed, having all too good of an idea of why he was being provided with food.

[06:27AM] **Is this because I ate most of your lunch yesterday? WG**

[06:27AM] _It may have something to do with it, but it’s also likely that I happened to make something I know we will both enjoy, so I am insisting we each have our own portions. Do I need to pack an additional fork so I may fend you off while I consume my own meal? -HL_

Still grinning, he cleaned his dishes and moved towards the bedroom to shower.

[06:29AM] **No, I’ll behave most likely. If not, you can only blame yourself for being able to cook as well as you do. Now quit bothering me, I still have to shower and I don’t want to be late. WG**

[06:32AM] _Mm. Very well. Please don’t let me distract you. You don’t need another day of Uncle Jack hiding in your office, waiting to tell you off. I will see you at the office. -HL_

[06:33AM] **See you. Drive carefully, please. WG** _  
_

*******

Jack was waiting in his office, but not for the reason he’d suspected he would be. He looked exhausted, drawn in. Will noted the dark circles under his eyes, the way his left eye was twitching and sighed inwardly, already anticipating what was going to come out of Jack’s mouth. _What now?_ As Will approached, he stood, giving him a tired smile.

“I know you’re just getting here, but I need you at a crime scene. It’s another Blood Drinker case, we think.” _No preamble, then? Straight to business?_ The bitterness in the thought surprised him as he moved behind his desk, trying to rein his emotions back in.

“Why the hesitation in labeling it a Blood Drinker victim? Has something changed?” Jack nodded, not meeting his eyes.

“Remember when Doctor Lecter said there may be an added theatrical quality to the case, now that Freddie Lounds started posting articles?” Will winced and nodded. “That’s why we are hesitant to label it one of his. We can’t tell for sure because there’s something more staged. I don’t want to tell you too much. I want you to look at the body and tell me if it’s the same person.”

“Is Hannibal here yet?” Jack paused, looking mildly surprised, then snorted.

“I forgot you had a handler now. I haven’t seen him come in yet, and we need you there so we can clean up this mess before the reporters show up.” Will stared unblinkingly at the other man until Jack broke and looked away.

“I don’t have a handler, Jack. That’s not fair and you know it, considering it was by your hand that he ended up coming with me to that first scene. He can help me complete the pictures I see and keep my mind from eating itself. I’m not going anywhere without him.” 

“You’re telling me that rather than help catch a killer, you would rather wait and have your hand held?” Will didn’t back down, his jaw set. 

“I’m a teacher, Jack. I help as well and as often as I can, but I’m not your whipping boy. The next 20 minutes won’t ruin the scene, nor will it affect your ability to catch the person you’re looking for. It will, however, ensure that I’m not destroying what little of my mind I have left to me.” 

“He can meet us there.”

“No. I’m waiting for him, and you can either meet us there or go with us. It’s completely up to you.” Jack smiled darkly. 

“I could order you to go, you know.” Will laughed, the sound loud and brittle as it echoed through his office.

“I dare you to try, Jack. This isn’t my department. I’m not even on loan, nor do I get paid enough to deal with your shit. I’m willing to go, but I won’t until Hannibal gets here. And I changed my mind. Get out of my office. Text me the details. We will meet you there. I have to cancel this morning’s lecture while I wait.” Jack ground his teeth, but didn’t budge. Instead, his hands balled into fists.

“You never needed anybody before this. Hell, you wouldn’t look any of our normal guys in the eye as you moved around the scene. But now, you need a fucking babysitter to look at a corpse. I never thought I’d see the day.” Will’s eyes narrowed, a feral grin on his face.

“You know what, Jack? Fuck you. Get out of my office. Text me the address and I will meet you there. Or don’t. I don’t care. Either way, this isn’t an argument I’m willing to have with you.”

“I-”

“What is going on here?” Hannibal stood framed in the doorway, jacket and briefcase still in hand. His deep voice soothed through Will’s frayed nerves, calmed his senses. _Jesus, Jack is right. I really do need him._ Will closed his eyes a moment willing the frustration down. When he had himself under control, he opened them to meet Jack’s angry glare while he spoke to Hannibal. 

“Don’t bother putting your jacket away, doctor. Jack says he needs me at a crime scene, and we were discussing it’s urgency before you arrived. It’s a rather moot point now, though. Text me the address, Jack. We will meet you there.”

Without waiting for a reply, Will shrugged back into his coat and strode from the room. Hannibal looked after him before turning back to Jack.

“It would serve you better to keep your temper and your opinions of Will’s needs on a crime scene in check, Jack. These types of outbursts have two likely outcomes. Will is going to either stop helping you out of spite or he will have an unnecessary emotional outburst that will force him to stop helping you. If you’d let me help him without antagonizing him for needing that help, he could be more than you or I can comprehend. A gift like his is rare and must be carefully cultivated. If you insist on having on any kind of opinion except absolute and total support, a less direct approach to your disapproval of his new methods will keep him in your pocket a little longer.” Before Jack could reply, Hannibal turned and left the room, heading in the direction the profiler had disappeared.

He caught up quickly enough, pulling Will aside before he could hit the back exit. Will’s entire body was shaking. _Quiet yourself. I am here to help you_. Without thinking, he turned and buried his face in Hannibal’s jacket, body shivering. If the doctor was surprised he didn’t show it, but instead wrapped his arms around Will’s back and pulled him into his chest, holding him without speaking. They stood there for long minutes before Will finally spoke.

“Jack thinks I need a babysitter for cases.” His voice was muffled against the front of Hannibal’s shirt. He breathed in deeply, taking in the spicy scent of the older man’s aftershave, willing himself not to chase the scent. _It would be so easy to press my lips to his pulse point._ _It’s right there._ Hannibal chuckled the sound rumbling through the profiler’s being like a salve.

“We both know that is not the reality of your situation. I am there merely to support and observe. I am not your handler, nor have I ever been. What is the description of the case he’s sending you on this morning?”

“He said he thinks it’s another Blood Drinker case, but he wouldn’t give me any details. He was just angry I wouldn’t leave without you.” Hannibal cupped Will’s face, drawing his gaze. The move was so intimate, Will’s heart pounded in his chest, legs going weak. _Oh fuck. It would be so easy to fall for you. This easy intimacy would make it so easy. So careful with me._

“Look at me Will, and listen to what I am telling you. Jack is afraid, and his knee jerk coping mechanism for his fear is anger. It has no bearing on who you are or what you do. We will go read this crime scene for him, and within the hour, he will apologize. Do not think less of yourself because he cannot keep his emotional outbursts in check.” Hannibal let go of his face and pulled him back into his arms, waiting until Will stopped shaking completely before releasing him. 

“How are you feeling now?” Will laughed without mirth, shaking his head.

“Angry, but like you said. Anger will help nobody, least of all whoever is affected by this case.” Hannibal nodded, unable to keep the pride from his voice as he spoke.

“Did Jack text you the address?” Will checked his phone.

“Yes, I have the address.” 

“I will drive, then. I do not think you are in the proper mindset to pay attention to both the mental symphony clearly playing on the bone arena of your skull and the traffic on the road.” They walked to the garage, making their way to where Hannibal had parked. Will sighed and climbed into the doctor’s car, buckling his belt as he settled in the seat. Hannibal’s scent permeated the air and Will took a deep breath, releasing it just as the older man climbed into the driver’s seat. _Christ, I’ve got to stop this._ Hannibal started the car and headed carefully towards the address they were given, expertly navigating the rain dampened streets of Baltimore as he studied his companion out of the corner of his eye.

“Will?” The younger man started, pulled back from wherever he had let his mind wander.

“Mm?”

“Are you truly feeling comfortable with assessing this scene? Jack be damned, you don’t need to put yourself into a situation that may cause more harm than good.” Will smiled distractedly before replying, placing his hand unconsciously on the older man’s arm. It would have been reassuring had his hands not been shaking. Hannibal’s heart squeezed gently. _This is not the day I was hoping for you, being dragged through hell at the whims of Jack Crawford._

“I’ll be fine, Hannibal. Jack is right, there is nobody else that will help him read the crime scenes for this case. I’m just… exhausted, and we aren’t even there yet. And when we get back, I have to give lectures and pretend I didn’t see any of it. I have to behave as if I am normal, even though I’m not and never will be. But it keeps people from becoming uncomfortable around me.” Hannibal nodded.

“I understand. We will make short work of what needs to be seen. I will be by your side the entire duration of our stay. I will not allow Jack to push you any further than he already has, not today.” Will smiled dimly and went back to staring out the window at droplets of rain as they chased one another across the pane of glass. In the silence that enveloped them, he kept his hand on Hannibal’s arm, the barest pressure of his fingertips on the solid reality of the man next to him lingering until they arrived at the scene. Hannibal instantly missed their warmth when they were withdrawn.

He stopped the car at the address they were given; an old farm house with a sagging front porch and peeling paint, a copse of trees looming behind it. A cop stopped them as he pulled in, but when she saw Will’s face out the side of the passenger window, she waved them through without a word. Hannibal parked the car, and the two men stepped out into the bracing air of the Maryland morning. Much to Hannibal’s relief, Will seemed to gather his persona around him, and when he closed the car door, the previous vulnerability he had shown was wiped from his features as if it had never been there. In its place was a grim resolution; the empath making his appearance at last. Hannibal’s inner monster purred at the change. 

Jack already made it to the scene, and walked away from the throng to meet them. His eyes were downcast, contrite at last as Will made his way towards the crime scene. Before the agent could reach them, he lifted the yellow tape himself, making his way underneath before Jack could help. Will passed without speaking, knowing Jack would do what was necessary for him to work the scene. Sure enough the booming voice crying “Clear the scene people!” could be heard, the trees absorbing the sound in their eerie vigil. The other agents and forensics teams scattered when they saw the profiler approaching. Hannibal watched with trepidation as Will reached the scene. He couldn’t see the details from where he stood, but he could make out the rusted fencing and broken stonework of a makeshift graveyard, likely for the family that had owned the farm. Will had stopped moving and Hannibal watched, fascinated as he began to work.

Will looked down on the young man for long minutes, eyes unblinking as he absorbed the details of the scene. The hair was longer and flaxen, much like the other victims. Instead of the pale clothing they all wore, he was dressed in the same strange, vintage style, but the clothing was dark and seemed to float around his frame. The body was propped up against the largest standing tombstone, legs crossed at the ankle, makeshift stake grasped loosely in one hand. Upon closer examination, the wood of the stake also had a different appearance; rather than being pale ash of all the other stakes, this particular piece was carved from a dark hardwood. The person that carved it obviously had a difficult time working with it judging by the rough grooves along its surface. Will made a mental note of the rub marks on the man’s wrists, the bruising around where he had clearly been bound. Once he saw those marks, his eyes were drawn to others, most notably the bruising around the man’s neck near the telltale bite, as if he had been choked before he died. The eyes were closed, but the grimace on his face spoke of pain, fear. _This man didn’t die peacefully. Not like the others. He didn’t want this._ Will closed his eyes and blocked out everything except what he saw on the corpse. Taking a deep breath, he let the pendulum swing.

 _I knew you, intimately. We may have been friends, but it’s more likely we were lovers. This was something we talked about, but you wanted to wait. I was ready for you to take the final step, to be with me in that special way and I made the decision for you. The brutality of my attack on you caught you by surprise, which is exactly what I was counting on because you were strong for your size. I bound you, choked you. Marked you, like the others so they would know you belong to me. Staged the scene in a place where you would be found quickly, before the you could be ruined, but not public. I wanted to mark you as different from the others, even in your likeness._ Will opened his eyes, inspiration suddenly striking.

“Hannibal, can you come here please? And bring me a set of gloves.” The doctor nodded and gathered two sets of nitrile gloves, donning a set before approaching. Will took the second set and slipped them on with practiced ease. Kneeling down, he turned the wrist with the bite marks in it. The skin was bruised, the marks angry and red. Will set the wrist back on the victim’s lap and let his eyes wander over the clothing he was wearing. _There._ The shirt was mis-buttoned, one of the shoes untied. _This is different. It’s similar, but not the same._ Rather than voicing his opinion, he turned to the man at his side.

“What do you see on this body that’s different from the last one we examined?” He felt Hannibal pause, considering. The eyes swept over the corpse, taking in the same things that Will saw, drawing the same conclusions. They both stood without speaking and made their way back to where Jack was waiting for them, notebook in hand to take notes.

“This isn’t a new Blood Drinker victim. This is a wannabe that knows him though.” The statement caught the agent off guard. He glanced up at both men, noting the similar expressions of certainty on their faces. _What will they become to this department when together, they are so sure of their conclusions?_

“How can you be so sure of that?” Will met Hannibal’s eyes, the older man nodding to indicate that he should continue.

“Several reasons, but let me tell you what I saw. The person that created this corpse knew the victim. Well. Probably a lover. Someone physically larger, but not as strong. He had to take him by surprise. He wasn’t made aware of the ritualistic aspects of the kill but read enough of Freddie’s awful writing to get some of it right. The stake is the wrong material. The pose wasn’t perfect; this victim suffered a great deal. Also, did you take a look at the bites? I’m guessing you’ll find two, but not three. The thigh wound will be missing. The teeth that made the marks are his own, not the fangs the actual Blood Drinker uses. There was no blood drained from the body, because the killer didn’t know he was supposed to drain the blood first to subdue them. That’s why there are marks on the arms and neck; he had to find a way of killing that wouldn’t require cutting up the body. That’s also why the victim looks terrified; he took a long time to die, and his death froze on his face.” Jack wrote furiously as the younger man talked, adding additional notes along the sides of previously written scribbles.

“Anything else of note?” Will nodded.

“The clothing will belong to the killer. That corpse was redressed hastily, and the clothing is too big. One of the shoes is untied. It’s close, but its not perfect. You’re looking for someone close to the Blood Drinker, but not the same person. He will be new to the area, or new to the way the other killer thinks. He’s still experimenting, and doesn’t know the mistakes he’s made yet.”

Jack nodded, adding more notes. He didn’t look as Hannibal spoke up.

“As much as it displeases, you may want to consider feeding news of this copycat killer to Freddie Lounds. Be sure she’s as ruthless as possible. Let her loose upon his character. The Blood Drinker will attempt to find him. You may manage to capture them both with a well placed article.” Jack snorted, unamused.

“You know we don’t talk to the press.” Will rolled his eyes, biting back his anger.

“Leak it then, Jack. Do you want two of these types of killers on the loose, one who has all but perfected his craft and the other who wants so badly to emulate the first that he will double or even triple the body count before he figures it out or turns into another victim?” He stepped into Jack’s space. The other man, surprised, took an unconscious step back. “Did you get a good look at this victim’s face yet? I sure as fuck did. He died in pain. There was no intimacy to this kill. No remorse or love or hate. It was done only to copy the style of someone he admired, someone of whom he wants to draw attention. This won’t stop unless you take every measure to ensure you know what you’re looking for.”

Will’s breath hitched in his chest as he visibly deflated, drew into himself. Hannibal stepped between the two men, taking ahold of the profiler’s arms.

“Back away, Jack. Something is wrong. Look at me Will.” Wild cerulean eyes met blood and gold. Hannibal could see the animalistic fear laced through his gaze. _He’s going to have a panic attack._ Hannibal spoke low, working to pitch his voice into a soothing calm. His mind screamed at him to fix this, fix it before something irreversible happened.

“Focus on on your breathing. Keep looking into my eyes. Tell me. Who are you?” Will’s breath hitched in his chest as he tried to release a laugh. It came out wheezing, a sound akin to a sob. Hannibal brought a hand to his face, feeling the cold that had sunk into his skin. _Not panic. Shock. Will is going into shock. Bring him back._

“Focus now, mylimasis. Who are you?” Quiet words escaped pale lips, but the strange language of Hannibal’s native country seemed to draw his attention.

“My name is Will Graham.” The fear eased just a touch from his eyes. Hannibal smiled, encouraged.

“Good. Now take a deep breath. Tell me. Where are you?” 

“I’m… I’m out at a house. A cemetery. Looking at a body. Another killer. Someone else did this.” The hitching gasps tried to resurface but Hannibal began to speak, drawing him consciously in another direction.

“Don’t focus on the killer right now. Focus on your environment. Do you remember your place, Will? The place I had you draw from? Go there, now. Describe it for me.” Will’s eyes slipped closed as he struggled to focus, to speak the words caught in his throat.

“The stream… river by my house. I go there. To fish. Fly fishing. The water is quiet. Peaceful. I am the only one there.” His eyes flew open, searching and locking on the doctor’s face. Hannibal’s eyes held his panicked gaze, and for a moment he let the professional mask slip, letting in the warmth and concern he felt for the man in front of him into his eyes.

“You can make it all go away, Will. Close your eyes for me. Close your eyes and wade into the quiet of the stream.” Will’s eyes slowly shuttered. His body shook and it was all Hannibal could do not to engulf him in an embrace. _Soon._

“Deep breaths, mylimasis. Long, slow breaths. Think about the sounds of the water. Your cast as it hits the water. The shine of the sun. Wind on your skin.” The younger man began to calm. The shaking took long minutes to subside, but slowly, they got there. Will’s eyes opened slowly. His breathing was normal. He smiled at Hannibal, eyes tired but clear.

“Ask me.” Hannibal smiled.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Will Graham. I’m standing on the land of an old farm, near a family cemetery where the body of another young adult lies. I am here because Jack Crawford doesn’t have anybody else that knows the monsters like I do. It’s now…” He glanced at his watch. “12:05PM and past my lunch time.” He turned towards Jack who was carefully avoiding looking in their direction, discomfort in Will’s outburst clear on his face.

“Do you have what you need?” The agent nodded. “Take me back to the bureau, doctor.”

For once, Hannibal didn’t argue the title.

***

The knock came to Hannibal’s office door as he was packing his briefcase for the day. Turning, he smiled as he saw it was Will standing framed in his doorway. He waved him in as he finished gathering the files he would need, zipping up his case. Will walked in slowly, looking around with interest.

“Wow. This office looks amazing since you’ve finished setting up. The last guy that had it had a tacky sense of decor. He had a stuffed beaver on a log in that corner.” He indicated to the corner where a ladder now graced a ceiling to floor case of books. Hannibal laughed.

“That must have been something to see. Are you retiring for the day? I daresay it’s been exciting enough for everyone involved.” Will nodded, not meeting the doctor’s eyes.

“Yeah, I was about to head out. I just wanted to check with you… make sure you still wanted to get together tonight. I know today must have taken a lot out of you and I wouldn’t blame you if you want some distance.” Hannibal regarded the other man with surprise.

“And what gave you any indication that our activities together are anticipated with anything less than fondness and pleasure, Will? I knew what happened today was a possibility when I conferred with Jack about being with you when you read scenes. This first time acting as your barrier was intense, yes. But the difficulties in life are what make the pleasures so sweet.” Will smiled distractedly.

“Maybe, but this…” Hannibal gripped the younger man’s chin, turning his face until he couldn’t help but meet his eyes. The blue of his irises reflected the certainty of rejection, laced through with the tiniest bit of hope. _There you are. Let me put you at ease._

“Will. I want to spend the evening with you. We have much to discuss, but it doesn’t have to be tonight. You could do with a good night’s sleep. The unfamiliar surroundings may serve as a pleasant distraction and allow you to fall asleep more easily. Should you dream, and should those dreams prove to be unpleasant, I will be right down the hall from you. I will always help you.” _And I want your familiarity. I want to be near you where you are comfortable, not in the discordance of our work environment._

Will’s eyes widened and he nodded, his gaze dropping to Hannibal’s mouth. His own lips parted slightly, the intake of breath intoxicating. Reluctantly Hannibal released his face, but gripped his wrist, thumb circling his pulse point.

“Go. Get your things and feed your dogs. Come to my home and find in it an environment that is both comfortable and a place with which to become familiar. Take your shoes off and talk with me as we cook. Relax with me when we have finished. Sleep in my home. Tomorrow can handle itself. We will only do what you feel up to doing. Are we agreed?” Will closed his eyes, breath shallow as he turned his wrist in the doctor’s fingers, asking silently for more contact. Hannibal complied, fingers gentle as he brushed over the thin skin of his inner wrist.

“Okay… okay. I’ll go home and get my things. It’s been a long day and I wasn’t sure you would still want to deal with me. I know that I am not the most stable person to be friends with.” _Is that what we are to each other? I think not, dear Will. Not for long._

“You are nothing more or less that exactly who I want in my kitchen with me this evening. Now go. And don’t tarry at home or I will end up planning everything we eat. The longer you wait, the more I’ll have completed when you arrive.” Will laughed and turned to leave.

“Right. Don’t start without me. I’m going to shower and change. Feed the dogs. And I’ll be over.” Hannibal shook his head. 

“No. Feed your dogs and grab your bag. You can shower and change in my home.” Will nodded, resigned.

“Okay. I will see you within the hour then.” Hannibal smiled, pleased.

“I will be waiting. Please be safe when you drive.”

Will walked with a little more purpose towards the door. The quickening in his step made Hannibal smile inwardly. Eager, hopeful, appreciative for the chance to be distracted. _I’d be happy to turn your mind towards much more pleasant thoughts tonight, Mr. Graham. Only if you choose to let me. I can’t push too hard, nor too far. Not yet._

Hannibal gathered his briefcase and, lamenting their uneaten lunches, collected the containers. The liver he had so carefully harvested looked wholly unappetizing now. _Another opportunity is destined to present itself. Patience and the perfect selection of meat._ _I will ensure you enjoy it... when the time is right._ With that thought, the doctor made his way to his car and drove off towards his home, ensuring he would have enough time to prepare for the evening.


	6. Familiar

_“What draws people to be friends is that they see the same truth._   
_They share it.”_   
_-C.S. Lewis_

* * *

Will made his way home surrounded by carefully orchestrated silence. It had become something of a ritual for him after visiting crime scenes; immersing himself in the quiet of the car to slowly let the day ebb away until he could recall it as if from a distance without being emotionally compromised. By the time he rounded the corner onto his street, he was feeling much calmer than he had when he left the office. Turning the day over in his mind, he realized how grateful he was that Hannibal seemed willing to put up with his penchant for emotional self destruction. He seemed surprisingly willing to help him navigate the treacherous waters instead of letting him drown. _I only hope he doesn’t grow tired of me after the novelty of my mind wears off._ He felt his insides freeze and purposefully pushed the thoughts away. _I will not set myself on that path when I’m about to spend my weekend in his home._

As he pulled into the front yard, Will noticed a box sitting on his porch. _Curious._ He parked the car and gently nudged it out of the way while he opened the front door. After setting down his briefcase and greeting Winston, he went back outside to retrieve the package. It was large, but not heavy, plain white cardboard with his delivery address printed in square black letters across the top. The return address showed a maker’s mark for a company in Florence, but no indication as to what it might contain. He took it inside and hunted down a kitchen knife to slice into the top.

Opening the flaps revealed a small business card resting on top of blue and silver clouds of tissue paper. Removing the first fine layer, he was surprised to find nestled in the protective cushion an intricately detailed Venetian style mask in the shape of a wolf’s face. He lifted it carefully out of the box, marveling at the craftsmanship. It was heavier than expected and comprised of elaborately tooled pale leather treated to appear white and silver, delicate metal filigree decorating the outer edges to liken it to a sprinkling of silvery fur. Two heavy black ribbons were sewn into either side, allowing the mask to be fit perfectly to the wearer’s face. Will set it aside and checked the box, looking for any indication of who may have sent it. He found a single sheet of paper, detailing how it should be worn over the next few days to ensure a proper fit with no slipping, and a request to have Hannibal let the maker know if it met the needs of the wearer. _Hannibal. Of course_.

He took the mask to his bedroom and set it on the dresser while he checked his night bag once more to ensure he had his shoes with him. He snapped a picture of his shoes sitting in his bag, grinning as he did so. Walking to the bathroom, he gathered his toiletries into an overnight case and tossed that in the bag as well. The mask seemed to stare at him from the dresser where it sat looking out of place, too fine amongst his furnishings. The material was soft and supple, but held its initial shape where it lay. He picked it up once again, and walked to the dressing mirror at the far end of the room. Taking a deep breath, he held the mask to his face, pulling the ties tightly against the back of his head. The leather whispered against his skin, wrapping his cheeks and nose comfortably. It seemed to have been made for him personally, cupping his face as if he wore it every day of his life. Regarding his own features, he had to admit that the silver was a startlingly perfect contrast to his dark hair and blue eyes. Smiling, he pulled out his phone, thumbing through until he found the texts between him and the handsome doctor. 

[05:22PM] [IMG04591] **Told you I’d remember my shoes. By the way, I got your gift. I don’t know what to say, except thank you for saving me once again. Where did you find something like this? WG**

He threw the phone on his bed and walked to the closet, selecting clothes to wear that evening. He chose a pair of faded jeans and a green v neck sweater, black t shirt and additional socks and underwear. Tossing them towards the bed, he picked up the phone as it chimed.

[05:24PM] _Ahh and so you have remembered the most essential article of clothing for this weekend’s excursions. Well done. Has the mask made its appearance already? I’m delighted to hear it arrived so soon. I have an acquaintance that is renowned for crafting such masterpieces. I thought you may need some assistance with finding something worthy of your appearance at so short a notice. -HL_

[05:24PM] **I’m glad. I would have forgotten until the day before that I actually need to purchase something to cover my face. Thank you for thinking of it. WG**

[05:25PM] _You are most welcome. Do you plan to bring it with you? It may be useful when you are searching for a suit. -HL  
_

[05:25PM] **Yes, I’ll bring it with me. What made you choose this specific mask? WG**

[05:27PM] _I’m afraid I was given no options in the selection . I sent the artist a photograph of you and asked him to choose for me. He would be far more well versed in such matters. May I inquire as to what he chose? -HL_

Will smirked as he tucked the rest of the clothes into his bag, shouldering it and carrying the mask back to its box before replying.

[05:31PM] **Which picture did you send him? And you can ask, but I don’t have to tell you. I’d rather you see for yourself. WG**

[05:33PM] _I sent him a shot of the picture I have attached to your file in my office. I discreetly snapped it the day we met, while you were giving your first lecture. I often find that images of those unaware they are the subject can be very telling. If you must, leave me in cruel anticipation. When do you anticipate you will be arriving? I’d like to have our menu selected before you do so. -HL_

[05:34PM] _Put the cookbook down and back out of the kitchen, doctor. I’m leaving in ten minutes and should arrive within a half hour. You can wait that long. WG_

[05:35PM] [IMG:00526] _Do hurry, or I’ll choose something from my favorite collection. -HL  
_

Will grinned at the image depicting a small wooden box, clearly well loved and designed to hold recipes. He grabbed the rest of his things and packed the car in haste, returning briefly to top off the auto feeder and water for his dogs. After a heartfelt goodbye, he locked the door and began the second part of his weekend journey.

***

The sharp notes of a harpsichord reached his ears as Will walked up the drive, balancing his now full bag and the box containing his mask. His heart lifted at the sound. _Knew he’d be a talented player. Those hands. Precise. Articulate as his words._ The notes abruptly ceased as he got closer, and the doctor opened the door before he had to knock. He had obviously had time to shower; his hair, still damp, hung in enticing tendrils around his face. He could smell the sharp tea tree scent of Hannibal's shampoo from where he stood. It made his mouth water. Will caught sight of a single droplet of water against his neck, slowly sliding to meet the dark blue sweater he wore. He suddenly had a wild image of dropping his bag to the sidewalk and ensnaring Hannibal in his grasp, just to lick the water from his skin. He had to shake his head to get the image to fall away from the forefront of his mind. _Cool it, Graham. Jesus._

The gleam in Hannibal’s eyes indicated that he had some idea of where Will’s mind had traversed, but he was too polite to voice the matter. Instead he held open the door and reached towards the box in the other man’s arms.

“Hello, Will. Would you like me to take the box from you?” He took the package without waiting for a reply as Will closed and locked the door behind him. He removed his shoes and set them against the wall next to where Hannibal’s own sat. The task of removing his shoes felt monumental, as if some big shift had just happened but was waiting to be discovered. He shouldered his bag and met the doctor’s eyes, which were gazing back at him fondly. He followed Hannibal to the back of the house, to a tastefully decorated room that was comfortably furnished in pale wood, blues and grays. Hannibal smiled as he came through the door.

“Please, make yourself at home. You’re welcome to use the closet and nightstands as you see fit. The top two drawers in the dresser are also available for your use should you need them.” He placed a hand on Will’s arm, holding his eyes. “Do not live out of your bag this weekend. I would enjoy it very much if you made use of the space offered. It will help you be more comfortable here. I will give you some time to unpack. When you have finished, I will show you where the bathroom is so you may shower.” 

Hannibal left the room, and a few moments later, Will heard the sound of the harpsichord pick back up, the staccato notes soothing his nerves. He sat gingerly on the edge of the bed and looked around, marveling at how the room seemed to welcome him. It had an air of familiarity, as if he had already spent many hours encased within it’s walls. The bed was huge and comfortable, the dark blue comforter nicer than anything he had ever owned. He took out his clothes and put them in their respective places; shopping clothes in the closet, comfortable clothes for the evening on the bed, socks and underwear in the dresser drawers, book and glasses on the nightstand. _Ambitious to think I’ll have time to read._ He placed his bag on the far side of the closet so he couldn’t see it and picked up the clothes he planned to wear for the evening. Grabbing the bag containing his toiletries, Will went back out to the living area. He slowed as the hall ended and Hannibal came into view, watching the man at the instrument play. His eyes were closed, face serene as he struck notes from memory. Will felt his heart squeeze gently in his chest, overwhelmed at the peace the scene displayed. _Why is it that everything about him makes me want to so close to him?_

The notes ceased when he entered the room as Hannibal opened his eyes. Smiling, the older man stood and joined him. Without speaking, he inclined his head, indicating Will should follow. He opened a door along the far wall across from Will’s room. Will’s eyes widened at the sight. This was not a bathroom, but Hannibal’s bedroom. The room was cavernous, almost as large as the living space they had just occupied. A magnificent modern styled bed took up the center of the far wall. The bed frame was comprised of dark wood and metal accents, the comforter a deep gray. The sheets beneath appeared to be the same dark blue shade of Hannibal’s sweater. Above the bed, a massive black and white still of the ocean graced the wall, giving the room a serene yet masculine appeal. A stone laid fireplace, currently crackling with a warm fire, stood in the far corner. Two armchairs surrounded it, much like the space in the doctor’s office, but these chairs were made for comfort; heavy cream fabric and deep seats, a place to sit for hours as you read or dozed. A footrest sat to the side of each, a round table made of the same wood as the bed frame placed in between. The floors were the same pale grey wood as every other floor in the house, but over it had been placed two large green and cream rugs. Hannibal let him linger as he opened the door closest to where they stood, and Will followed him through to an en suite bathroom. 

“There is a guest bathroom, which is located next to your bedroom. However, the guest bathroom holds a bath instead of a shower. I have already set out a towel and any other amenities you may need. Please take as long as you need.” Will eyed the other man, humor glittering in his eyes.

“Is this a ruse so you can have free range in the kitchen while I’m melting in that shower?” He tilted his head towards the far wall where the shower in question stood; dark grey tiles still damp from Hannibal’s own bathing. _Wish he would have waited._

Hannibal laughed and stepped closer, holding Will’s eyes as he did. Carefully, watching for any signs of discomfort, he caged the younger man against the counter top. Still leaving room between their bodies, he carefully pulled on the clothes Will was holding until he relinquished them. Setting them on the counter, holding his eyes, he brushed back the curls from Will’s forehead, watching him with softly swollen pupils. 

“For now, I want you to be comfortable for the weekend. There will be no calls from Jack Crawford, no lectures to give, no bodies to search for clues. You’re safe here, welcome to do as you please. I will give you my solemn oath that I shall not step into the kitchen without you, except to retrieve a set of wine glasses from which we can drink while we debate our menu. Now enjoy the warmth and release from the day the water can provide, and join me in the dining room when you are ready.” Will’s breath stuttered as he tried to rein in his reaction to Hannibal’s touch. Seeing the look in his eyes negated the necessity. The doctor was already keenly aware of the effect he had on the other man. _Good. Let yourself go with me, Will. Be at ease._ Smiling, he stepped back and turned towards the door. He caught the low sound in Will’s throat as he moved away, the obviously affected keening at the loss of contact. He quietly left the room, giving Will the chance to breathe.

Will shook his head and tried to clear his thoughts of the obvious overtures Hannibal was making towards him. It had been years since he experienced anything resembling intimacy with another person, and the smallest touches the other man offered set his blood on fire. He had never been so easily aroused by as simple a gesture as brushing his hair back, but at that moment, it would have taken one deep breath for him to fall to his knees and beg for Hannibal's touch. His skin felt hot and tight, aching for contact. He sighed and turned the water in the shower on, adjusting the temperature until it was as blisteringly hot as he could stand. Stripping off the clothes he wore for the day felt like shedding the weight of the crime scene, the entire week. Opening his toiletries, he removed his shampoo and body wash and stepped into the billows of steam. The pressure of the water felt perfect; enough to dig into the tension of his head and shoulders without causing pain. He took his time, letting his mind wander as he bathed. His thoughts kept drifting back to what Hannibal must look like when he was ensconced within the tile walls, water dripping from his skin in rivulets as it washed him clean. His body reacted with such ferocity that it took his breath away; skin sensitive and tight, feeling every sting of the water. His cock was so hard it ached, but he couldn’t bring himself to masturbate in Hannibal’s shower. He had a feeling it would be painted on his skin for the other man to see, a thought he couldn’t bear. He washed his hair, groaning at the pressure against his scalp. He hadn’t realized how much tension he was still holding until he got into the water. He felt it wash down the drain with the suds of his shampoo.

After long minutes, he shut the water off and reached for the towel Hannibal had laid out for him. He absentmindedly scrubbed his hair free of water, hanging the towel before reaching for his clothes. The jeans were one of his oldest pairs and had been worn soft as butter with time and use. He pulled the t shirt and green sweater over his head, enjoying the soft material against his skin. He pulled a comb from his toiletries and did his best to tame his hair while it was still damp, knowing it was futile even as he did so. Will took one final glance in the mirror to ensure nothing was glaringly out of place before gathering his clothes and toiletries and making his way out of the bathroom. 

As he stepped into Hannibal’s bedroom, he lingered for a moment, absorbing the calm atmosphere the room offered. The fire was warm and enticing and the space smelled like the doctor’s aftershave; clean and masculine. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, letting the scent gather around him. He envisioned for a moment waking in this room instead of his own, the bed covers warm and soft, a tanned arm thrown over his side. The body at his back was solid, comforting. His eyes snapped open and he silently cursed as he quickly left the room and the vision behind. Quickly making his way to the spare room, he deposited his belongings and went in search of Hannibal before he grew impatient.

***

“I’ll say it again, Will. We must continue to cook together with some regularity. This stew is as incredible as the previous dish we prepared.” Hannibal took another small bite, relishing in the tastes that commingled on his tongue. They had decided simple fare would be best; something elevated but comforting. Will had talked Hannibal into allowing him to make drop biscuits to go along with it at the compromise of making stew that contained beef rather than chicken. Their combined efforts produced a delectable dish that left them both a little speechless in their desire to consume it. Will bit into a biscuit, eyes warm in the candlelight. They had each had a small glass of red wine to whet their appetite as they cooked and when paired with the warmth of the shower that had sunk into his bones, he felt almost liquidly relaxed. While cooking, they found small ways of touching; some perfunctory to ensure they didn’t run into one another, others obviously deliberate. Will was delighted at how often he felt the other man’s touch on his shoulder or his back. There had also been the one delicious moment that he had removed the biscuits from the oven and Hannibal had been directly behind him, surveying his efforts with delight. He had backed into the doctor and had been steadied by long fingers curling around his waist, ensuring that he neither fell nor moved further in the direction he was currently traveling. The touch had been more intimate than any other they had shared, seared across his skin as he attempted nonchalance. The doctor murmuring in his ear, praising him on the smell and look of his baked goods, had only served to exacerbate his increasing attraction to Hannibal, and his alarming inability to hide it. The look they had shared when Will had glanced over his shoulder held heat, obvious attraction. They both knew what was happening, but seemed content in letting things progress as they were.

“Thanks for agreeing to something lower than your typical standards tonight, Hannibal. I find that after time in the field I always reach for the familiar, so I appreciate you indulging me. I highly doubt this is what you had in mind for dinner.” Hannibal laughed and regarded Will over his glass of Bordeaux; the perfect accompaniment to the meal, considering the same wine was used to cook their stew.

“I think you will find that I am much easier to please than you seem to believe. I am human and I understand the need for creature comforts when under duress.” Will snorted as he chewed, losing himself in thought. He took a small sip of wine, watching the other man’s face as the light from the candles danced across his skin. His mouth looked soft and sensual and Will couldn’t stop himself from wondering what it would be like to kiss him. Instead, he took another fortifying sip of wine before he responded.

“It’s not that I think you’re superhuman." Hannibal smirked as he continued. "Not really, anyway. It’s just that you seem unusually attuned with my needs and willing to indulge me, even if it’s not exactly what you want. Sacrificing your own desires for another is a rare thing, but you continue to do so with me with surprising regularity. I wanted you to know that it doesn’t go unnoticed, or unappreciated.” Hannibal smiled as he set his glass down. He spooned another bite of stew into his mouth, chewing as he thought on his response.

“I am not sure what makes you believe that what I do is altruism, Will. True, I do often give you what I believe you need, but don’t allow yourself to fall to the delusion that these are things that I do not want to give you. With time, I believe there will be a good deal of give and take from us both as our friendship progresses. Possibly more than either of us currently comprehends.” He tilted his head, watching Will as he contemplated the meaning of his words. His next words were as soft as the candlelight that surrounded them, intimate in the warm atmosphere.

“Due to the nature of our work, many of our conversations are going to be uncomfortable. Raw honesty when coming to terms with difficult situations is essential to the comprehension and acceptance of those circumstances. We will need to discuss what happened today, but I don’t believe it’s polite dinner conversation. The easiest way to ensure you can open up to me in a way that I can help you is by providing you with an environment in which you feel safe. Also, this stew we created is hardly a hardship to consume.” He eyed the other man wryly as he spooned another small mouthful. Will grinned and took another bite. The conversation turned to much more pleasant topics as they allowed their glances at one another to linger.

When both men finished their meal, they took the dishes through to the kitchen. Will moved to the sink intending to wash up, but was shooed to the other side of the counter by Hannibal who brandished a pristine white dish towel at him until he conceded. Will took a seat at the bar and watched with interest as Hannibal cleaned, enjoying the curve of his hands and the way his jeans hung from his hips when Hannibal’s back was turned. When the kitchen was spotless, Hannibal picked up the bottle of wine they were consuming and filled their glasses, finishing off the bottle. Having completed the task, he gestured towards the hall.

“Shall we retire to my office? I’d like to start the weekend with a clear conscience, and I will not be able to do so until we’ve discussed what occurred today.” Will visibly tensed, but nodded. Picking up his own glass, he followed the doctor down the hall and into the familiar space of his office. The fire in this room was also lit, and they sank into their respective chairs. Hannibal let him settle before speaking, the warmth from the fire sinking into them both. Will’s eyes had closed, his breathing even, but Hannibal could feel the tension radiating from him in waves. He touched the profiler’s hand, bringing him back into himself. Will glanced in his direction and Hannibal smiled reassuringly.

“This doesn’t have to be an unpleasant conversation, nor a lengthy one. I feel you would be most at ease if you’re able to get some of what occurred off of your chest now so it does not invade your dreams." The doctor took a small sip of wine before depositing the glass on the table between them. "Tell me, what about this particular scene caused the response you had to it?” Will took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he tried to gather his thoughts.

“I don’t know. Jack’s reaction I think. He’s always pushing, but he doesn’t take what I say as seriously as he should. I try to see everything I do without being drawn into it, but with some crimes it’s impossible to stay separate from it all. Today's crime scene... there was something almost casual about this murder. It’s a first attempt at duplication, sure. But it also displayed a complete disinterest in the identity of the person that was murdered. The lack of emotion when killing someone so obviously close to the victim is disconcerting. It threw me off balance, more than most of these crimes do.” Hannibal nodded, willing himself to keep his normal outward composure. His heart leapt into his throat at Will’s description of his emotional state; his clarity of his own mindset was fascinating, and troublesome. The doctor knew that perception could easily be turned on him, much as a dog with rabies eventually lashes out at it’s owner. The prospect was both worrisome and intriguing.

“You came very close to a panic attack today, Will. While I know we are just now getting to know one another, I feel that this is not a normal response to cases. What was it that happened that caused such a strong reaction?” Will sighed and took a sip of wine. He stared at the fire, trying to articulate the emotion that had built up in him, but found he didn’t have the vocabulary to make it make sense.

“I don’t know.” Hannibal gazed at him, disbelief clearly etched into his features.

“I do not believe that to be true, and neither do you.” Will chuckled without humor, keeping his eyes trained on the fire. _I don’t want to have this conversation._

“I don’t care if you believe it, Doctor Lecter. I don’t have the words to articulate every emotion that comes into me, and this is one of them. I don’t know why this case, I don’t know why today. It was too much, there have been too many. It could have been what I had for breakfast, or nerves regarding this weekend. It could have been the fucking body parts in one of the other cases on the table at the FBI. I don’t know what causes the cracks to show, I just know my reactions aren’t optimal when they do.”

“You’re still not being honest with me, or yourself.” Hannibal leaned forward and touched Will’s leg, drawing his attention from the fire to meet the doctor’s gaze. Concern was etched into his features, a need to understand. Worry. _Are you worried about me?_ The hand on his leg squeezed gently. Will’s breath caught in his throat as Hannibal's fingers lightly traced patterns just above his knee. “Think on it, Will. Harder than what you’re doing right now. You’re glancing at the surface when what you need is just underneath. Why today?” The touch on his leg was maddening, too light, too much. Will couldn’t concentrate on what Hannibal was trying to tell him when he was touching him. He didn’t move, but attempted to bring his thoughts back together into some form of lucid clarity.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to get me to see, Doctor.” The hand on his leg stilled, withdrew. He missed it the instant it was no longer there.

“Why are you distancing yourself from me, Will? What is it about this situation that you don’t want to see?” Hannibal’s voice was pitched low, decadent in the quiet of the fire-lit room. Will leaned forward, hanging his head between his hands. He heard the other man stand, tensed as the hands descended onto his back. Hannibal’s thumbs dug into his spine, just under his shoulder blades, forcing him back into a sitting position. They danced along his shoulders, kneading the topmost skin of his neck before making their way into the thick curls at the back of his head. The older man leaned over the back of the chair, pressed his lips to the shell of the profiler’s ear. “Tell me.”

Will gasped and pulled from the doctor’s grasp. He stood, almost knocking over the wineglasses in his haste. His wild eyes found Hannibal’s calm gaze and held it as his heart beat hard in his throat.

“I don’t have an answer for you.” Hannibal began to circle the chairs, approaching slowly as if he didn’t want to spook the other man. He stopped directly in front of him, holding his panicked eyes. Slowly, he raised a hand to Will’s face, gentle this time. Coaxing. Will unconsciously leaned into the touch, his eyes shuttering closed. The doctor’s voice drifted into his ears as he willed his heart to slow.

“There is comfort in touch, in familiarity. There is a closeness built between people that understand one another at a level that transcends what exists on the exterior of the psyche. You found yourself able to let go because there was someone there who was willing to catch you when you fell. You had the opportunity to use your gift to its fullest potential and you let yourself fall into your killer's psyche more than you normally do. This put you into a heightened state of panic when you attempted to return to yourself. But you could do it because you had someone there who could help remind you who you are." The fingers on Will's cheek were gentle, maddening. He let himself sink into the touch as Hannibal continued to speak. "It is okay to need help, especially with your unique view of the world. And as long as I am wanted, I will always help you come back to yourself. You have no need to be lost, not anymore.”

Without warning, Will stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Hannibal’s waist. Taken aback, the doctor stiffened in the embrace. Will stilled, and quickly withdrew, embarrassment etched into his features.

“Jesus, I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me tonight. Too long of a day and too much wine. You… yeah. You’re right. You have a different effect on me than most people do. I feel like you can see me, and you are willing to protect what you can see. It draws me to you in ways I can’t fully control. It didn’t give me a reason to accost you like that.” Hannibal took a breath, reaching for the other man.

“Will-” Will backed away, moving quickly towards the door.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I think I’m going to turn in for the night. It’s been a really long week and I’ve had a lot to drink. Maybe we can resume this conversation in the morning when I’m feeling a little more myself.” Hannibal’s stomach clenched. _You surprised me, but you so fear rejection that you will refuse me if I attempt to make amends. What am I to do with you?_

“Is this truly what you wish?” Will nodded, not meeting his eyes. Hannibal nodded to himself. “Do you remember which door leads to the bathroom in the hall?” Will nodded again. “Very well. Kindly leave your glass with me and I shall dispose of the remainder of your drink before I retire. I hope you have pleasant dreams myl- Will.” Hannibal picked up the glasses and moved slowly towards the door. Stopping a foot from the other man, his eyes softened, even though Will was still carefully avoiding his gaze. “Should you need anything in the night, please do not let this make you hesitate to reach out to me. We won’t discuss it tonight, as I do not want to cause you any more distress than what you are already putting yourself through. Know only this: Should you need anything, anything at all. I am here for you.” Stepping past the younger man, careful to avoid his personal space, Hannibal left the room.

Will waited until he heard the water running in the kitchen to make his way to the room he was to use to sleep in that evening. Closing the door quietly behind him, he leaned against it, breathing heavily. _What the hell is wrong with me? Why would I do that when I have such a good friend in him? It was obvious that he wasn’t expecting the touch. He probably hates to be touched and you lunged at him like a lost dog looking for a pat on the head._ Will sighed and moved to collect his toiletries from the side table. He opened the door, listening for any sign that Hannibal was close, then raced to the bathroom door. He closed it quietly behind him before turning on the lights. This bathroom was almost as large as the one in Hannibal’s room, but as the doctor had told him, it contained a bath rather than a shower. He stared at the pale stone, trying and failing to not picture Hannibal relaxing within its depths. He turned and focused on himself in the mirror. _Jesus, I look like shit._ His eyes were red, skin pale. Shaking his head, he turned on the tap and splashed his face with cool water before reaching for his toothbrush.

When he opened the door, he once again listened for any sounds indicating Hannibal was headed in his direction. Hearing nothing, he crept back to his own room, attempting to make as little sound as possible. He closed the door and moved towards the bed, pulling off his sweater as he went. He stripped out of his jeans and hung both back up in the closet. He moved towards the bed, stopping at the sight of a tall glass of cold water perched next to his book and glasses. A small note was stuck to the top of his novel.

 _It would not do for you to become dehydrated in the night after so much wine. Sleep well. -HL_ The note made his heart ache. Reaching for his phone, feeling very much like a lovesick teenager, he typed out a message.

[09:56PM] **I’m sorry I’m such a mess. WG**

He heard the ping of Hannibal’s phone through the wall. _He’s in his room as well._

[09:58PM] _You have nothing for which to apologize. You are not a mess, you are simply severely lacking confidence. It is nothing that cannot be remedied with time. Is there anything you need before we turn in for the evening? -HL  
_

Will’s heart ached. He wanted, almost needed a hug, to feel the warmth of another person. There was no way he would ask Hannibal for something so trivial, especially after the incident in his office.

[10:00PM] **No, I’m okay. Thank you for checking, and for putting up with me. WG** The message that came through was eerily aligned to his thoughts. Will couldn't help but smile as he read it.

[10:01PM] _There is nothing you would ask of me that I wouldn’t give to you, Will. I care deeply for you. But if you’re certain, I hope you have pleasant dreams. Please drink half the water I provided before you sleep. It will prevent any ill effects from the wine. -HL  
_

Will's heart clenched at the fussing.

[10:02PM] **Yes, doctor.**

He turned his phone to silent and set it on the nightstand. Picking up the glass of water, he downed half of it in three large gulps. Setting the glass back down, he turned off the light and climbed into bed. He groaned as he settled; as he thought, the bed was the most comfortable thing he had ever laid in. It seemed to cradle his body, supporting and comforting. Sighing, he turned on his side to look out the large window set into the far wall. He watched the clouds drift over the moon until his eyes drooped closed and he slept.

***

Hannibal awoke with a start, unsure as to what had roused him from his slumber. He stilled, listening to the noises the house produced. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Settling back against the sheets, he closed his eyes once again, hoping to drift off quickly.

A cry from the guest room snapped his eyes back open. _Will._ He climbed out of bed and threw open the door, pulling the door to the spare room open with such force that it hit and bounced against the wall with a thud. The man in the bed was shaking, clearly trapped in the throes of a nightmare. Hannibal reached the bed and touched his skin, his hand coming in contact with the cold sweat of fear. Gripping the younger man’s shoulder, he turned him onto his back. The convulsions instantly escalated in their intensity, Will’s muscles contracting as if hit with an electric current. His mouth tried to work, to form words, but the sound of anguish issuing forth formed no discernible phrase. Hannibal knelt down and smoothed his hand through his hair, working the damp curls back from his sweaty brow.

“Will, you’re dreaming. Listen to the sound of my voice. Feel my touch. It’s just a dream.” His free hand wrapped around the profiler’s shoulder and he gave a gentle shake. The trembling grew stronger, the cries louder.

“Will,” he soothed, “I’ve got you. I promise I will always be there to help, and I’m here. Wake for me. It’s just a dream.”

Will’s eyes opened and he gasped, shooting up in bed. Hannibal hauled him into a hug, ignoring the sweat pouring from his skin. He held onto the trembling man, rubbing soothing circles into his back. Will panted hard against him. Hannibal didn’t let go, continuing his gentle massage as the fear rolled across his skin. _You didn’t need this tonight._

“H- Han-” 

“Shhh. It was a nightmare. I’m here. Take deep breaths for me.” He felt Will respond, his chest expanding and contracting as he fought for control. It took several tense minutes, but finally the muscles in Will's back eased, his breathing evening out to normal breaths. He gently released the younger man so he could look at him, but did not remove his hands. Will’s eyes darted around the room, trying to take in his surroundings.

“Where-” His breath rattled in his chest. Hannibal’s heart ached for him as he watched the struggle he was sure nobody else had born witness to. _I’m here._

“You’ve come to stay with me for the weekend, remember?” Will nodded. He leaned his head against Hannibal’s chest, still breathing hard.

“Forgot. Dream. It was so real.” Hannibal carded his fingers through the damp curls at the base of the profiler’s neck, massaging the tense muscles he found. They breathed together in the quiet. _What I wouldn’t give to help you if you would let me._ Hannibal made a decision. Standing, he held out his hand. Will took it curiously, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of the doctor in only his boxer briefs. Hannibal smiled and turned, leading Will from the room. Walking into his own bedroom, he sat the younger man on the side of the bed.

“Stay here for just a moment. Remove your shirt for me. It will not be comfortable for you to sleep in it, now that it’s damp.” Will nodded and obeyed without thought, casting the shirt to the ground. Hannibal went to the bathroom and retrieved a wash cloth. He held it under the taps, soaking it in the cool rush of water. Walking back to the other man, he knelt in front of him. Holding up the cloth, he said, “I’m going to clean your skin for you so you’re comfortable. I do not think it wise for you to return to your own bed tonight, therefore you’ll be sleeping in mine, with me. I want to ensure your nightmares do not return tonight.” 

Will nodded his ascent, not meeting his eyes. Hannibal gently wiped his face, down his neck using the cool cloth to soothe Will's ragged nerves and clean the sweat from his body. He gently lifted each arm before descending onto his chest. Standing, he wet the wash cloth again and worked it against the profiler’s back, and up against the back of his neck. Will’s eyes shuttered closed as he leaned into the gentle touches _. Skin starved. You are starved for the touch of another. Let us remedy that tonight… alleviate some of your need._ Hannibal left once more to toss the cloth into the bathroom, then turned the light off. He padded back to the bed where Will’s slumped silhouette still sat. Hannibal held out his hand and he took it and stood, looking embarrassed. He glanced at the door.

“Thank you for rescuing me again, Hannibal. I shouldn’t have had-” Hannibal gently reached out and touched his face. Will’s eyes were huge as Hannibal brought their lips together, a bare brush of satin skin. _Oh._ The second press was not as gentle, but a purposeful pressure. Will’s lips were soft, pliant and the moan that escaped his lips was all the encouragement that Hannibal needed. He carded his hands into the wonderful curls of Will’s hair and sealed their lips, heart beating hard in his chest. Will’s arms wound around his waist as his tongue brushed the seal of the younger man’s mouth, begging entrance. Will groaned as his lips parted, and Hannibal licked his way in. Will’s mouth was hot and tasted of the faintest hint of toothpaste and something uniquely sweet and smoky. The doctor gently mapped the inside of his mouth, coiling his tongue with the profiler’s, feeling fingers dig gently into his spine. The minutes of their exploration stretched before Hannibal brought him back to himself with gentle presses of lips. He rested their foreheads together, letting their breath mingle. When he spoke, his voice was rough, accent thick in the quiet light.

“Please do not apologize for needing me. And do not go back to the solitude of the spare room. You are most welcome to share my bed. I want to hold you as you sleep.” Will, still breathing hard, nodded. Hannibal took his hand and lead him to the bed. As they slid under the covers, their bodies slotted together, Will laying in the circle of Hannibal’s arms with his head on the doctor’s chest. It was curiously familiar, as if they had been sleeping like this for years. His arm stole across his stomach, bringing them closer together. Hannibal kissed his curls and sighed, pulling him closer. _This is where you belong._

“Do you think you will be able to sleep?” Will nodded, ear pressed to the comforting sound of the doctor’s heartbeat. “I will be right here if anything should happen in the night. Do not hesitate to wake me, should I not wake right away. Sweet dreams, Will.” Will smiled against his chest and wrapped himself closer.

“Sleep well, Hannibal.” They slept soundly through the night, Will’s nightmares effectively vanquished by the protection he found in Hannibal’s arms.


	7. Opulence

_Kiss me, mercilessly._   
_Leave no corner of me untouched._   
_-Beau Taplin_

* * *

  
The sound of the birds chirping in the trees outside the windows woke him. Will breathed deep as his eyes cracked open slowly. His head felt fuzzy, as if he had stuffed it full of cotton the night before and the early morning light filtering into the room felt wrong. _Stupid wine. Should have had more water_. He let his eyes wander around the room, wondering why it looked so different in the daylight before cold realization hit him. _This looks like… but it can’t be. How did I get here?_ As he came more awake and took in his surroundings, he found himself comfortably pressed into Hannibal’s back, arm wrapped around him as if he had been drawn to him in his sleep. Hannibal’s skin was the source of heat in the room; the fire had long since burned low and the air itself held a distinct chill. Carefully, he removed his arm, his embarrassment in sleepwalking into the doctor’s room pushing its way to the surface of his mind. _God I need to get out of here before he wakes. He does not need to know what a freak I really am. Hopefully he will have no memory of me climbing into bed with him._

He turned carefully in the sheets so as not to disturb the man next to him. He began to inch his way across the bed, trying his best to cause as little disturbance as possible. The sheets tangled in his feet and he silently cursed, trying to free himself. As he reached the edge, he breathed a sigh of relief. _Good. I can get out of this without it being a big deal._ He carefully placed his feet on the floor, rolling to a sitting position as he did so. Just as he pushed up from the bed, a powerful arm caught him from behind, dragging him backwards. He crashed into a warm, solid chest, breathing hard. Hannibal held him there without speaking, waiting for him to relax against him. His arms held him fast, ensuring there would be no more attempts to escape. Agonizing minutes passed with no words spoken between them as the profiler’s heart slowed. Only then did Hannibal loosen his grip enough for Will to turn and face him. He didn’t dare meet his eyes, instead fixing on the smooth, firm flesh of his neck. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, keeping his eyes down. “I don’t know what happened last night. I must have-” A hand touched his chin, warm pressure raising his face until blue eyes met maroon. The look Will found there held none of the surprise or disappointment or anger he expected. Instead he found sleepy warmth, a quiet happiness. Hannibal’s hands found their way into his hair as he inched closer, watching the younger man’s eyes. Will’s lips parted as he took a shaky breath. _Please. God, please._ His eyes drifted closed as the doctor’s lips met his own, a quiet promise laced within the gentle press of lips. A soft, nervous sound escaped Will’s throat and Hannibal took the opportunity to lick into his mouth, deepening the kiss into something more. Will moved closer, wrapping his arms around Hannibal's back as they explored eachother, sealing their mouths as their tongues coiled together. The minutes spent in quiet distress melted with each moment within the older man’s arms, retreated under the warm caress of their mouths. When Hannibal drew back, panting, he pulled Will closer, wrapping the other man against his chest. They slotted perfectly together, two puzzle pieces meant to fit as they did. Hannibal continued to stroke his hands through Will’s curls, easing the last of the tension from his body. Time stretched on as they relaxed into one another, letting the quiet settle around them. When Hannibal broke the silence, his voice was still rough with sleep.

“What did you believe transpired last night, Will?” He could hear the smile in the doctor’s voice. He blushed, burying his face against the other man’s neck. He mumbled a reply against his skin. Hannibal chuckled, the sound reverberating in hid chest. 

“What was that? I don’t believe I heard you correctly.” Will pulled back reluctantly.

“I sleep walk. I thought…" he could feel the heat in his cheeks as he hurried on. "I thought I wandered in here sometime in the night without your knowledge. I woke up pressed into your skin, and I panicked.” Hannibal gently tugged on his hair until their eyes met. His eyes held warmth and lazy affection as he spoke.

“You did not sleep walk. You had a nightmare. Night terrors if I was to take an educated guess. I brought you in here to sleep when I was finally able to wake you. You were very distraught and I thought it best you were not alone.” He kissed Will’s curls, working his way down along his brow to the bridge of his nose, before bringing their lips together once again. Each kiss felt like a bomb detonating in Will’s stomach, lightning racing across his skin. He clung onto Hannibal's skin, a silent plea for more, but Hannibal pulled back once again, holding his eyes.

“Kissing you… that was one part comfort but at least two parts desire. It seemed to help ground you last night, but it wasn’t meant to be purely therapeutic." He smiled gently as he watched the younger man's mouth. "I have been waiting for the opportunity to arise.” Will’s brow furrowed.

“You kissed me last night?” He closed his eyes, snippets of the evening dancing just out of sight of his memory. _Stupid wine_. Hannibal laughed.

“I’m happy to know the experience was so memorable. Yes, I kissed you. And I brought you to bed.” He saw the question in the other man’s eyes and shook his head. “No Will, that is all that transpired between us. Should further intimacy occur, I would like you fully present and cooperative when it does. Now come here.” Hannibal rolled on his back and opened his arms. The younger man slotted himself against the doctor’s side, head on the upper swell of his chest. The arm curving along his shoulders and back stroked the skin it found, raising goosebumps to Will's skin. He tried to keep his breathing even as he took in lungfuls of Hannibal’s scent; warm skin, a trace of the spicy aftershave he always wore, and sleep. Will hadn’t realized that sleep had a scent until that moment. He allowed himself a moment of weakness as he pressed his nose to the other man’s skin, taking in the comfort the contact provided. Hannibal seemed to read his mind, speaking quietly as he stroked Will's skin.

“There is nothing that is going to happen while you are with me that should be considered bad, wrong, or embarrassing. You have not been given the opportunity for intimacy for some time.” Will started to speak, but Hannibal silenced him with a finger to his lips. It took all of the younger man’s willpower to keep from kissing the digit, so he tried to concentrate on the doctor’s words instead. “It was not a question, only an observation. Our previous conversations have also lead me to this conclusion. You are skin starved, and when offered the ability to touch, you reach for it without hesitation. There is no shame in that. In fact,” he said, tilting Will’s face so their lips met. “I encourage it.” Their kisses stayed gentle, a brush of skin. Will sighed and lay his head in the crook of the other man’s neck. Their fingers laced together over Hannibal’s sternum. He could feel the quiet thump of the other man’s heart beneath his hands, sure and steady. The silence surrounded them like a comfortable blanket, and the two men slowly fell back to sleep.

***

“So did you choose rolled oats before I got here, or is this the only thing in your cupboards that could be considered a breakfast food?” Will dodged the flick of the white towel that Hannibal sent flying in his direction, turning to deposit the fresh cut berries from his board into the two steaming bowls of oats. Hannibal was busy at the stove, putting the finishing touches on several sausages, which he then deposited onto a small plate to be shared between them. Will filled two cups with freshly brewed coffee and slid them in their respective places at the bar where their food sat waiting.

“Oats are a hearty breakfast food, Will," Hannibal admonished, his eyes dancing. "They serve as good fuel to start the day, unlike than that atrocious excuse for cereal you sent me a picture of earlier this week.” He set the plate of meat down between them before rounding the counter to sit beside the younger man. Taking his seat, he leaned over and laid a gentle kiss on Will’s shoulder before turning to his food. He felt Will still beneath the touch, and sent soothing thoughts towards him as he picked up his spoon. _Be comfortable with me, Will. Please._ The younger man glanced sideways at him as they began to eat.

“So what’s on the agenda for today? I assume you were serious about shopping for a suit, right? I don’t have the faintest clue of where to begin that search, so I’m kind of relying on you for you expertise.” Hannibal nodded, biting into a sausage. 

“I thought I might make things easy and take you to my tailor. While he won’t have time to make you something custom, he has a wonderful selection that can be altered to fit as if it was. He is very talented in his craft. While it may be a bit more costly, you will be guaranteed quality, selection and a perfect fit.” Will rolled his eyes as he bit into a sausage, a sound escaping low in his throat as he relished in the flavor. Hannibal watched him chew the meat with dark, delighted eyes. The younger man blushed as he wiped his mouth.

“I trust your judgment with such things. I have no idea what I’m doing and would rather leave myself in your capable hands when it comes to knowing where to go. However," he said, shaking a sausage at Hannibal, "I’ll be pretty particular about how you try to dress me.” Hannibal smiled into his coffee cup as he took a sip of the Blue Mountain roast he kept tucked away as a special treat. Inhaling the familiar aroma, he mused. _It appears Will is worth many opulent indulgences._

“Speaking of your suit, you have yet to show me your mask. Would you mind very much going to get it for me? I’d like to see what was chosen for you.” Will nodded and stood, continuing to chew as he made his way through the house to the spare bedroom. Hannibal watched his retreat, enjoying the way the muscles in his back played beneath his skin as he moved. His mind wandered, wondering absentmindedly what those muscles would look like underneath his hands. _Should things progress as they are, perhaps we will find out._

Will returned, carrying the box containing the mask. He set it on the counter next to Hannibal and gestured for him to open it as he took another bite of breakfast. Hannibal cleaned his hands and opened the lid, lifting the mask from amidst the clouds of tissue paper that ensconced it. His fingers traced the delicate metal filigree as he marveled at the detail carved into the leather. _It is absolutely, astoundingly perfect for you._ He held it out to the younger man, who took it with some hesitation.

“May I see it against your features, please?” Will raised an eyebrow.

“Now? I’m in my boxers in your kitchen. It may be better served to see it when I’m dressed.” Hannibal leaned forward and kissed his lips, lingering only for a brief moment.

“Now would suit me well. Humor me.” Will stared at him dubiously for a moment, but obediently raised the mask to his features. As he tied the ribbons and lifted his eyes to meet the doctor’s, Hannibal’s heart stilled. _Oh._ He reached up a hand to trace the mask where it graced Will’s handsome features. He looked like the wolf whose likeness was carved into the leather, but the pink of his lips below the curve of the leather added just the right touch of sensuality to balance the animalistic snarl etched into the material. It was the perfect juxtaposition; predator and prey encompassed in one man. The pale treatment covering the material made his blue eyes bright, lighter in shade than they normally appeared. They lost some of their warmth, taking on an edge of wildness that Hannibal found dangerously appealing. Hannibal knew he was staring but couldn’t bring himself to stop. The shiver that marched down his spine had nothing to do with fear. Will was still looking at him, waiting for a reaction. Hannibal cleared his throat before trying to speak.

“It looks wonderful on you. It was a marvelous choice. I will need to pass my compliments on to its maker.” _And pay him a handsome fee for my good fortunes._ Will smiled and untied the ribbon. His gaze traced Hannibal’s features as his brow furrowed. 

“You feeling okay? You look a little flushed.” Hannibal smirked, pulling the younger man closer.

“Let us just say the mask suits you very well. I shall be delighted to accompany you while you don it.” He grazed his jaw along Will’s face like an animal marking his scent. His hair fell into his eyes as his lips reached the profiler’s ear. “I feel very fortunate today, Will. I hope you do not mind my affections. I know I have no claim to you,” he murmured, “but I am pleasantly surprised to find that we are so compatible. Being with you is a delight. But should I become too much, if the affection I show you makes you uncomfortable, please do not hesitate to say so.” He felt Will’s lips curve against his cheek, before his hand reached up to ensnare Hannibal by the back of the neck. The kiss they shared branded itself onto Hannibal’s soul, making it’s own room in his memory palace. _The moment Will Graham took what he wanted._ Will rested their foreheads together before speaking.

“Don’t be concerned with affection, Doctor Lecter. As you said, I’ve been starved for quite some time, and I’m rather enjoying the feast.”

***

Will hated shopping. Per his usual style, he tried to keep things simple and comfortable with minimal deviation, as it made his daily routine easy and predictable. Since Hannibal crashed into his life, his routine had become anything but predictable, but old habits died hard. He stepped from the dressing room, steeling himself for Hannibal’s appraisal. It was worse than he expected.

“For the love of all that is holy, no. You cannot wear that. As your friend and a psychiatrist, even if I am not your doctor, I cannot allow you the travesty.” Will rolled his eyes and groaned. He knew that Hannibal would be particular, but he hadn’t expected a fight on every article of clothing he tried on. 

“What’s wrong with this one?” Hannibal pinched the bridge of his nose, praying for patience.

“Where do I begin? The color is wrong. Blue will make you look approachable. If you are attempting to deter such behavior, it would be best to project power and an edge of danger. Your mask offers the opportunity, you just need to fortify it with the remainder of your clothing choices. This…” He fingered the material, clearly unhappy. “The cut and material are wrong. It does not fit you well enough for tailoring to save it. Here.” He placed his hands on Will’s shoulders turned him toward the three paned dressing mirror. Will’s breath caught at the contact and he had to force himself to concentrate. “Do you see the tightness in the shoulders, here?” Hannibal’s hands brushed along the outermost corners of the suit. “And how the jacket hits your legs, here?” His hands traveled down to the edge of the jacket. Will watched in the mirror as the taller man leaned in to speak in his ear. “You should dress to be seen, and that includes showcasing how delightfully well proportioned you are. Do not allow yourself the ordinary on this night.” Will saw himself nod, entranced by the doctor’s voice, low and warm, easing its way into his psyche. He wanted to bathe in the sound. Hannibal turned away and picked up three selections of his own before herding Will back to the dressing room. When he reached the door, he handed him the garments.

“Try these. They are made of finer, higher quality materials and have a better cut and color choice. Start with the black, then the deep grey, please. Save the pale grey for last, as I do not believe it will be a necessary option.” Will nodded and bit his tongue as he resolutely closed the door behind him. Stripping from the suit he chose, he eyed the doctor’s selections. Sighing, he slid the pants off the hanger and put them on. He could tell the difference instantly. The fine wool was comfortable, breathable, and hung better than any of the choices he had made. _Of course he would know best. Had I listened, I would not still be here._ He tucked in the white shirt he had worn in, and slid the jacket into place. On a whim, he picked up the mask and donned it with only a functionary glance into the mirror before stepping out once again. 

Hannibal turned from his conversation with the tailor as he heard him approaching. Will could see his eyes darken as he got closer, his gaze raking down the younger man’s frame. He stopped in front of the mirror once again, and took a long look. The suit already fit him well, and with a few minor adjustments, would be perfect. It was the deepest black, it’s crisp clean lines creating a sharp silhouette of Will’s figure. The cut widened his shoulders a touch, and narrowed his waist. Hannibal stopped within touching distance behind him, but simply stood, surveying the figure before him. He met the older man’s eyes in the mirror, watched as his gaze turned hungry. He turned to face him, putting his hands in his pockets in an attempt to feign nonchalance. 

“I take it you like this one better?” Hannibal’s smile was as hungry as his eyes.

“Yes. This one suits you better, especially with that mask. I stand by my choices. Please try on the dark grey. I do not believe we will need to view the third.” His voice sounded rough, his accent thick in his throat. Will grinned and stalked towards him. The doctor raised an eyebrow; clearly playfulness was unexpected, but very welcome. He encircled Will’s waist as he got closer, pulling him into a gentle kiss. 

“Happy and at ease suits you, you know. You are a different man when you are comfortable. Now please try on the grey so we can make a decision. I believe you’ve earned a meal out, and I have just the place in mind.”

***

“I can’t believe you purchased both. I only needed one suit. And I planned to buy the one I liked best. What made you think I’d want two?” Hannibal shook his head as he held open the door to Charleston, a high end French restaurant with a flawless reputation for quality. Will followed behind him, his head still reeling. Once the alterations were factored in, the cost of a single selection had made his head spin, but when Julian, Hannibal’s tailor, took a second set of measurements, Will had glanced curiously in the doctor’s direction. He had smiled enigmatically and shrugged, meeting Will by the doors as they were bowed from the shop. His generosity had not been as appreciated as he had hoped, and he now found himself trying to soothe Will's irritation so they could enjoy the rest of their evening together. He stopped them both and took Will by the shoulders, holding his eyes as his own shone with contrite sincerity.

“I understand the gift was unexpected, Will. And in the future, I shall request your consent before doing so again. However, I do not regret the purchase in the slightest, even if you have been upset by it. I think of this as an investment towards future events we may attend together. I’d very much like to take in the opera with you, and it requires a certain level of dress. In fact,” he whispered against his companion’s ear, “there are many places we may go where I will get my money’s worth. Now, can we please enjoy a meal together, or do you require more grovelling on my part before this discussion is concluded?” Will’s brain had short circuited when Hannibal’s lips had grazed his ear; suddenly, he couldn’t remember the point of their argument. He breathed down his arousal as they walked through the main doors toward the hostess table.

“Fine. You win. Thank you for the gift. I greatly appreciate it.” He hesitated as Hannibal gave his name to the hostess. She smiled and lead them to a quiet corner of the busy restaurant. Handing them their menus, she promised their waiter would be by shortly before wishing them a pleasant evening. Will gazed at the man across the table as he opened his menu. “Did you mean it?” Hannibal glanced up, assessing the earnestness on his face.

“Did I mean what, precisely?” Will rolled his eyes and picked up his menu.

“Never mind.” Hannibal sighed and plucked the menu from Will's hands.

“Hey-” He held it out of reach of his questing hands.

“Did I mean what, precisely?” Will lowered his eyes, defeated.

“It’s so embarrassing that you’re making me spell it out.” Hannibal’s heart clenched in his chest. _No, I won’t have that._

“Are you referring to my comment on getting my money’s worth from my purchase?” Will nodded, his gaze still averted. Hannibal reached for his hand, brushing his fingertips along the skin of his knuckles reassuringly. “Of course I meant it. I find myself feeling rather close to you. Given the opportunity, I would like to see what the future holds for us." Hannibal lowered his eyes, releasing Will's hand. "That is, of course, if you would like to continue our current trajectory. I seem to be missing the mark quite often today, so I can understand if it’s not something in which you are interested.” Will offered a small smile and took the proffered menu.

“Did you know that your speech patterns change when you’re nervous? They become far more formal than they are when you relax.” He leaned forward conspiratorially, his eyes shining. “While I enjoy your high speech Doctor, I much prefer it when your prepositions are at the end of your sentences.” Hannibal laughed, relieved. 

“I will keep that in mind. Shall we peruse the menu? I’m famished.”

***

“Five courses was too many. I feel like I’m going to burst.” They wandered out onto the street, full of delectable food and wine. Will had managed to talk Hannibal down from the full six course menu, but it had been a near thing. Both men were a little drunk, as each course had come with its own wine pairing, including dessert. Hannibal lifted his hand to hail a cab; at his insistence, they had not driven into the tailor that afternoon. _He probably had the whole thing planned_ , Will mused.

“I thought I may need to leave the room when the sweetbreads arrived at the table, Will. I have never seen a man look at a piece of meat the way you eyed your dish.” Will laughed and looped an arm around the doctor’s waist as they waited for a cab to appear. 

“I, like you, happen to enjoy the finer tastes and delicate combinations that French food can provide, when done well. It’s not my fault you chose a restaurant that is renowned for their presentation and culinary skill. Plus,” he said as his fingers played against Hannibal’s waist, “I’d never ask you to leave. I just wouldn’t share.” Hannibal’s retort was cut short by another voice overriding his in the dark.

“Well isn’t this an unusual sight. The unstable scourge of the FBI out on a date. With a man, no less. I didn’t know you had the proclivity, Will.” The smart, sarcastic voice of Freddie Lounds drifted through his ears, his body tensing at the sound. Will stilled, dropping his hand from Hannibal’s waist as he turned to face her. Freddie smirked, pushing her long auburn hair out of her face. She was dressed for an evening out herself; a form fitting black gown graced her figure, complete with dark grey stole and heels. She wore a delicate gold chain around her neck but was otherwise unadorned. Her companion was attempting to lead her away from the other men. Will recognized him as a member of the local police department.

“What do you want, Freddie?” She grinned at his snarling tone.

“Why nothing, Will. It isn’t my fault that you and your partner make such a photogenic couple. Please, don’t stop cuddling into him on my account. I already got all the material that I need.” She turned to Hannibal, the smile still gracing her lips. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure. And believe me,” she said, stepping closer. “Had we met, I would remember.” She offered her hand. “Freddie Lounds, Tattle Crime. I report on a lot of cases your Will here works on. And who are you?” Hannibal stared at the proffered hand, but did not accept it.

“I know who you are, Miss Lounds, though I think we would both hesitate in calling what you do ‘reporting’. More exploitation of events better left out of the public eye. I’m sure you find ways of getting the material you need without much trouble.” He glanced at the man on the sidewalk, now uncomfortable under the doctor’s scrutiny. “Most of that seems to be done between the sheets, rather than by sheer tenacity, as your columns so often claim. How tragic.” He stepped closer as she dropped her hand. She took a step backwards toward her date. All the false pleasantness in her face had disappeared; in its place, her features settled into cold calculation. She smiled, but it held an edge to it, a baring of teeth rather than a true smile.

“I get my stories however I need to.” She stepped back and looped her hand through her date’s arm. Turning back, she held Hannibal’s gaze. “I’d be careful with that one,” she said, nodding towards Will. “He’s completely unstable, and will not hesitate to drag you into the dark with him. Ta ta, gentlemen. Enjoy the rest of… whatever it is you two were doing.” She turned and stalked into the restaurant.

Hannibal turned back towards Will, whose face had gone pale with anger. He stepped closer, but made no move to touch the younger man. Instead, he raised his hand at a passing taxi, and steered him into it when it stopped. 

The drive home was quiet. Hannibal could feel the anger rolling off of Will in waves. He reached across the seat and placed his hand, face up, next to Will’s. The silent comfort offered was ignored for several minutes until he felt the smallest touch of the younger man’s fingers against his skin. He brushed his thumb around the other man’s careful touch, allowing his heart to quiet. _We can discuss this when we get home. For now, this is all that is needed._

***

Will removed his coat and shoes and set them in their respective places next to the door. The ride home had been tense, but he took heart in the offered comfort of Hannibal’s hand. He didn’t want to talk with anybody else present. Now that they had made it back to Hannibal’s, he found he didn’t particularly want to talk either, but he knew the doctor wouldn’t let it go without a discussion. _Better to get it out now._

Hannibal watched, amused, as Will made himself at home, as he turned and walked in the direction of the doctor’s office. Hanging up his own coat and removing his shoes, he retrieved two crystal tumblers from the kitchen and made his way down the hall. Will was working on getting the fire started, and once it lit, he flopped gracelessly into the armchair he favored, the one closest to the fire. Hannibal moved to the sideboard on the far side of the room and filled each glass with two fingers of Scotch, the amber liquid molten in the firelight. He took his seat next to Will and offered one of the glasses across the table between them. Will took it and downed it, wincing at the burn in his throat before placing the glass on the table. His eyes never left the flames. Hannibal waited, sipping his drink.

“I hate her with a burning passion. I’m sorry if she embarrassed you. I’m used to it by now.” Hannibal snorted into his glass before setting it onto the table.

“I was not embarrassed, Will. I do not blame you for your responses to her taunting, nor do I feel slighted by your reactions. Our association is still in its very early stages." Hannibal eyed the other man over the table, watching his features change in the firelight. "Had we been further along in this relationship, I do not believe you would have reacted as you did. Should we continue to build upon the foundation of what has begun between us, I do not believe you will be driven to this same reaction again.” Will glanced sideways at the serene face looking back at him.

“You really aren’t offended that I stepped away from you?” Hannibal smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

“I am truly not offended. I find your reaction to be quite normal, especially when taking into account the gender of those with which you have had previous relationships.” Will sighed and settled back into his chair.

“You’re doing it again.” Hannibal's brow furrowed.

“Doing what, may I ask?”

“The formal language thing. When you are trying to distance yourself from something, you become clinical, formal. You’re doing it right now.” Hannibal was silent as he reached for his glass. Will beat him to it, tossing back the remaining Scotch. He set the glass down and met the doctor’s gaze. “You’d be correct, but I know you already know that. It’s been decades since I’ve considered any kind of amorous relationship with another man. I was more surprised than I want to admit when I found myself so attracted to you. It was instant, too. There was no ‘get to know you’ stage, not really. Just something about you draws me in.” He hesitated before forcing himself to continue. _Have to get it all out on the table. Only fair._ “The instant connection we have… it scares me.” 

Hannibal considered what the younger man’s words meant as he stared into the fire. _Perhaps he is correct. This is all very sudden, too sudden for one so fearful of who he is. More time, and more patience is needed than what I can provide tonight._ He glanced across to find Will watching him carefully. Hannibal sighed inwardly and met his eyes.

“Today was certainly full of excitement, for both of us. Do you mind terribly if we turn in for the evening? We can talk more in the daylight, when the situation isn’t so fresh on your mind.” Will nodded and stood, swaying ever so slightly on his feet. Turning, he offered Hannibal his hand to help him out of the chair. He tugged a little harder than he intended and Hannibal stumbled. Will caught him in his arms, righting them both. The doctor tensed, the contact too much when faced with the decision he had just made. Will, sensing the shift in his behavior, dropped his hands and moved back so Hannibal had room to maneuver past the chair. He ran his hands through his hair as he stared into the fire.

“You don’t mind if I stay another night, do you? I’m a little drunk to be driving home. I promise, no more night terrors to wake you. I’ll be quiet.” Hannibal smiled, a touch of sadness in his visage. 

“I had assumed you intend to stay the duration of the weekend. You are most welcome in my home, Will.” He hesitated, watching the profiler’s eyes. “In fact, I found myself rather hoping you’d share my bed for another night. I know now that it was not appropriate to have such high hopes so soon, but I feel you should know how much you’ve enthralled me. My affections are not easily acquired, and I fear you’ve moved beyond any prior association I’ve had. I realize now that I’ve moved much too quickly for your level of comfort.” Picking up the glasses on the table, he inclined his head towards the door. “I suggest you take some water with you into the guest bedroom, and try to finish the glass before you sleep. Alcohol fuels your nightmares, and I’d much prefer you to have pleasant dreams when under my roof.”

Will nodded, speechless, and followed him from the room.

***

Hannibal couldn’t sleep. He had started a fire in the bedroom hearth, then taken a long, luxurious shower until most of the tension had been released from his back and shoulders. He spent most of the time beneath the waters, thinking about Will. It had been over an hour since they had retreated to their separate rooms, and he missed the other man like an ache. Sighing, he turned over to watch the flames dance against the pure black of the night. He contemplated rising to sketch, but he didn’t want to disturb his guest. Instead, he stayed in bed and lamented the turn in the day’s events.

Everything had been going so well until the unfortunate incident with Miss Lounds. They had moved through the argument about the suits with surprising ease, and Hannibal had very much been looking forward to what the evening might hold for them, both filled with wine and food and feeling more than a little amorous. Intimate partners were chosen with great care, as it was the moments in the afterglow that he couldn’t keep his person suit completely in place. He would never take the risk if he wasn’t sure of the outcome, and he had been _so sure_. Then the reporter had appeared, and the charismatic man he had come to know had faded, leaving instead the twitchy, nervous man that had walked Hannibal to his office on his first day with the Bureau. Although he would not admit it to Will, the rejection had stung. He felt it more because he felt something for the profiler, something he did not believe himself capable of feeling. And now, he realized what a mistake it had been to take the risk.

 _Once this mess with the masquerade has concluded, I shall withdraw my affections completely and keep our ties professional in the extreme. This dalliance will need to come to an end sooner or later. I do not know what I was thinking when I believed him capable of accepting those darkest parts of me._ His mind perused their morning, the way Will had relished the food he ate, his eyes sparkling with happiness and mischief. _If he knew what he consumed, he would leave_. Hannibal sighed and attempted to quash the spinning of his mind. In the morning, he would make Will breakfast, then subtly suggest he had files he needed to complete before the week began. It would be a simple way to move them towards severing their personal bond. _It’s for the best._ He closed his eyes and prayed for sleep to drag him back into an oblivion of non feeling.

The knock came several minutes later, so low that at first he thought he was hearing things. _Wishful thinking. Go to sleep._ The knock came again, followed by a muffled voice.

“Hannibal? Are you asleep?” Hannibal's heart thudded as he pulled back the covers and padded to the door. When he opened it, he found Will, looking delectable in boxers and a white t shirt, his curls soft and wild around his face. _Cease this insanity this instant. He is not yours_. Summoning his most professional voice, he attempted to speak without affection. He was mildly successful at best, sounding tired and resigned, even to himself.

“Did you need something, Will?” The younger man shifted on his feet, desperately, achingly attractive. Hannibal's heart squeezed in his chest as he fought to control his emotions.

“I can’t sleep. My room… it’s comfortable, but its cold. And…” he raised his eyes to meet the doctor’s maroon gaze. “You aren’t in it. I was hoping I could take you up on the offer to sleep in your bed tonight.” Hannibal’s heart leapt into his throat, pounding beneath his skin. His throat refused to work, so instead he opened the door further and gestured for Will to join him. Turning, he moved back towards the bed. 

Will closed the door and padded to the far side of the bed. Sitting, he removed his t shirt and slid beneath the covers. Hannibal had settled with his back towards the younger man. Sighing, Will turned on his side and shuffled forward until he was within touching distance. His fingers grazed the top of Hannibal’s shoulder and he felt the doctor still beneath his touch. Waiting. Will moved closer, bringing their bodies flush before sliding his hand along Hannibal’s ribcage and around to his stomach. His lips grazed the top of his shoulder, tasting the body wash and clean salt of his skin against his mouth. Hannibal remained stoic and still.

“Why are you truly here, Will?” The profiler sighed and ran his hands along Hannibal's skin. _I don’t want to talk anymore tonight. I just… want._ He pulled Hannibal’s shoulder until he took the meaning and rolled to face him. His fingers came up, brushing the doctor’s lips in the firelight. He watched the darkened eyes widen as he grazed his mouth with his own.

“This is why.” Their kiss was gentle, exploratory. It felt like a first kiss; hopeful, hesitant and fragile, but filled with promise and longing. So much longing. Will’s hands wound their way into Hannibal’s hair and gripped. As he gasped, Will licked his way into his mouth, swallowing the sound of his breathy moan. For long moments, there is just this; their bodies pressing together as they relearned the intimacy they had built over the past week, letting their kisses soothe their ragged souls. When they came apart, panting for breath, Hannibal’s mouth wandered, gentle against Will’s jaw as he made his way down his neck. Will stretched, a quiet moan escaping his lips as the older man explored, helping himself to the delicate skin at the crease between Will’s neck and shoulder. The profiler’s hands dug into his shoulders as his tongue explored the spot he discovered, grazing it experimentally with his teeth. Will’s back arched at the sensation, his breath tight in his chest. Hannibal drew back, relishing in the reaction his explorations had caused.

“I have forgotten myself and your need for skin, Will. Forgive me my trespasses.” His lips kissed an apology into the sensitive flesh, giving Will the opportunity to breathe down his arousal. _No. I want this._ Will wrapped a hand in Hannibal's hair and brought their lips crashing together. The kiss they shared was incendiary, color exploding behind Will’s eyes as their tongues stroked. He mapped the inside of Hannibal’s mouth, tasting his excitement like champagne bubbles dancing along his palate. He used the doctor’s surprise to roll them, pinning Hannibal beneath him. As they kissed, Hannibal's hands wrapped along his hips, pulling him down. He was hard as iron, and the first brush of the answering hardness brought a gasp from his throat.

“Please-” Hannibal stilled, gripping his hips.

“Please what, Will?” The younger man’s words were wrenched from his throat in an almost sob.

“Don’t stop. I- I need you, Hannibal.” The doctor’s breath stuttered in his lungs.

“Are you certain? If it’s too soon…” Will rocked his hips down as his lips silenced Hannibal’s words. _Like this then. No more waiting._ Hannibal rolled them once again until he was on top, covering Will as they kissed. He worked their boxers off, tossing the material to the floor without another thought. The feel of Will’s skin against his own short circuited his mind. All other thoughts ceased; there was only the two of them, no barriers between them for the first time. He reached for Will’s lips as he rocked his hips down, pleasure sparking down his spine as their cocks brushed together. Will’s tight moans seared into his soul; pleasure wracking his features as his body unconsciously sought friction. Hannibal opened his bedside drawer and withdrew a slim black bottle of lubricant. He dispensed a small amount into his hand before wrapping the iron hard length of Will’s prick in his grip. The younger man cried out, nails digging into Hannibal’s back as he began to stroke.

Hannibal had never seen a more erotic image as watching helpless pleasure chase itself across Will’s features. He was so tactile; with a few strokes, he was already breathing heavily, rocking into his palm, chasing the sensation. Hannibal’s heart cracked at the realization of how long it must have truly been for anybody to touch him like this. He lowered his mouth once again to the younger man’s neck as he explored, thumb swiping through the moisture gathered at the crown of Will’s cock. He bucked up into the touches, his cries wanton and lost. Hannibal could feel the moment his orgasm began to break, and found his lips as the tremors began. 

“That’s it, Will. Show me. Give me your pleasure.” His voice drove Will over the edge and with a cry, his orgasm broke across his skin. He came in thick ropes between their chests, came so hard he saw stars. The doctor worked him through it, touch softening as his flesh became more sensitive in the wake of his pleasure. They breathed together in the dark, shaking. Will clung to his lover's shoulders, overwhelmed with the power of his orgasm, exhausted from the emotional turmoil they had experienced. Uncannily intuitive as always, Hannibal held him until the shivering subsided. Will met his gentle gaze, reaching for his lips. Hannibal smiled and drew back. Standing, he made his way to the restroom and came back with a warm cloth to clean Will’s skin. As he gently removed the film of sweat and sticky evidence of the younger man’s release from his skin, Will cleared his throat and attempted to speak.

“You- you haven’t-” 

“Nor will I, not tonight. For now, let us both content ourselves in the glory of what just transpired.” Hannibal climbed back into bed and pulled Will into his arms. When he tensed, the doctor sighed. “Cease your negative thoughts. This experience was beyond what I thought we would share, and I want to cherish it without adding my needs to the equation. Believe me, Will. I will be picturing your face in the throws of ecstasy for many days to come, even when you are not present. It is more than enough for me. Life is not always about reciprocity, but sometimes only requires the realization of how truly fortunate we are for the experiences we are given. And you… you are more than I ever dared hope.” He kissed the top of Will’s curls and pulled him closer.

“Sleep, darling. It has been a long day.” Will smiled against his collarbone at the unconscious endearment and closed his eyes, breathing easier than he had in years, thanks to the man at his side.

“Good night, Hannibal. Sweet dreams.”


	8. Connection

_Invisible threads are the strongest ties._   
_-Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche_

* * *

Hannibal woke to the warm, solid body of Will pressed so tightly against his back, it was difficult to discern where he ended and the other man began. One leg was planted firmly on top of his own, Will's arm wrapped tightly around his waist. Hannibal felt like a stuffed toy; an object drawn to unconsciously for comfort. The hot morning erection pressed into his tailbone spoke of other desires altogether. Smiling to himself, he lifted his head and glanced at the clock, happily noting that it wasn’t yet 6. His movements caused Will to stir behind him, the hand around him flexing against where it lay at his hip. The warm, solid flesh of his prick slid against Hannibal’s thigh. Hannibal bit back a moan, his body unconsciously seeking friction and heat after denying himself pleasure in favor of Will’s comfort the night before. All of his restraint broke when he felt Will’s teeth against his shoulder, grazing the over the sensitive flesh at the crook of his neck. The tight moan that escaped his lips couldn’t be quelled as he tilted his head back, offering his neck up for more of Will's explorations. The hand at his hip tightened, pulling until Hannibal rolled onto his back against the covers. He found himself pinned beneath his lover, his body hot and pliant with sleep, giving Will the perfect opportunity to cover him with his own. The profiler’s mouth disengaged from his neck to find his lips. Hannibal moaned weakly as their tongues flashed together, tasting, having. The shyness Will had been exhibiting seemed to have fled with their contact the night before; left in it’s place was only hunger, need for the man beneath him. He claimed Hannibal’s mouth, mapping its contours with his tongue as he wrapped himself around him. Their erections slid together, warm and hard and Hannibal’s mouth broke from the kiss with a gasp.

“Will-” Will reached across him, fingers searching the bedside table. Hannibal gulped down air, shaking. _Too much I can’t wait, too much…_ His voice shook as he tried again.

“W-” The fingers found the object they were looking for and the doctor’s voice was effectively silenced by the mouth covering his own as Will uncapped the bottle of lube that had been left out from their explorations the night before. Hannibal ached at the loss of contact when Will sat up, but the feeling was quickly replaced by a cold silken drizzle against his heated flesh. His cock was as hard as iron and ached with a ferocity that left him feeling lightheaded and weak with need. He closed his eyes at the feeling of the liquid warming to his skin, his body unconsciously seeking more, more, _more_. More contact, relief, anything, _everything_. He was one deep breath from begging when he felt the brush of Will’s hot prick against his own, now sliding wetly against him, eased by the lubricant. _Oh god, this feels like sex._ He rocked his hips, chasing the feeling as he felt a hand work it’s way between them. He arched against the bed as the hand wrapped them together, creating the perfect friction to rut against. The sensation sent sparks of pleasure along Hannibal's skin; nothing had ever felt this good. There was only the soft light, the sheets beneath him, the short gasps of breath, Will’s own moans quiet in his ear as he fucked his fist. The tight grip and press of Will’s erection were perfect, rubbing against his sensitive flesh as he bit back his cries. The orgasm Hannibal had staved off the night before wouldn’t be quelled a second time. He could feel his balls tightening, his skin tingling with the inevitable rush. He gripped the back of Will’s neck, bringing their lips together in an urgent kiss as he tried to tell him without speaking. Will broke the kiss, holding his eyes, his own darkly delighted.

“Fuck, Hannibal…” Will’s voice was rough with sleep and arousal, the sound crashing through Hannibal’s heart as his orgasm broke, rolling over him in waves of pure white pleasure. The cries that issued from his lips were broken fragments of Will’s name, the only thing that stood still in the whirling pleasure. Will rutted into his grip, breathing against his neck in hot, short bursts. Hannibal’s orgasm was suddenly heightened when he felt the answering wetness of Will’s release against his skin. Their lips found eachother as the sensations crested in waves, dizzying in their intensity. As their release ebbed, it left them in a sated, messy pile. Hannibal’s hands found their way into Will’s hair as he brought their lips together gently, quiet satisfaction coursing through him at the contact. Will lay his head on Hannibal's chest as they fought to catch their breath. 

“I wish every morning started like this.” Will’s voice still sounded rough with sleep. Hannibal chuckled, the rumble in Will’s ear strangely comforting.

“Perhaps we can start more mornings like this. It certainly lends a deeper understanding to the joys of domesticity.” Will’s eyes shone with happiness as he gazed at the man beneath him. They lay, breathing together until their heartbeats found a rhythm that was uniquely theirs, connected by an invisible string. Hannibal felt as if he might burst with joy from the feeling as he stroked down Will’s back, enjoying the intimacy it brought as they breathed.

Several minutes later found them in the shower, quiet glances of admiration of reveled flesh they had yet to view as they rinsed away the morning’s exertions. Hannibal reached for the shampoo and lifted an eyebrow, regarding the man beneath the spray. Will smiled and nodded, and the doctor filled his hands with the clean scent of cedar and tea tree as he built the soap into a lather, working it through Will’s curls. Will hummed deep in his throat, still relaxed from his orgasm. As Hannibal guided his head back to rinse, Will’s hands came up around his waist, pulling him close. They stood under the spray, the only movements being Hannibal’s hands working the soap out of Will’s hair. Will reached for his lips, a quiet request for contact. As they kissed, their mouths open and hot beneath the water, Hannibal couldn’t help wondering if he was still dreaming. _Perhaps I fell off the bed and put myself into a coma. That explanation would be far more believable than what has truly happened._ His heart thumped quietly in his chest, contentment almost physically manifesting on his skin.

They finished showering and toweled off, intent on falling back into bed for another hour before making breakfast. It was as they reached the edge of the bed that Hannibal saw his phone begin to flash, Jack Crawford’s name displayed on the screen. He met Will’s eyes as he answered, asking the question he knew Jack would ask of him.

“Good morning Jack. How can I be of service?” Jack’s voice came through urgent, irritated. Hannibal could hear the sounds of other people milling about in the background which could only mean one thing; Jack was at a crime scene.

“Have you heard from Will?” _No preamble, then_. Looking the question at Will, he answered carefully.

“I have. He is currently asleep in my guest bedroom, where he has been sleeping since Friday evening. We have been taking care of his mental and emotional wellbeing since the last crime scene. I take it there has been another?” Will tensed beside him, listening. Hannibal stroked a hand down his skin reassuringly, feeling the muscles taut as a bowstring beneath his touch. _Relax for me, darling. Everything will be okay._

“Yes, and I need you both here as soon as possible. Can you wake him and make it happen?” _No questions, then._ Hannibal breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Yes, I can do that. Text me the address and we shall be in route shortly.” The call disconnected without a goodbye. Hannibal set the phone down and searched Will’s face for some indication as to how he felt about them being together all weekend being known. Will smiled wryly, his eyes guarded but not unhappy.

“It’s okay. You did the best you could without a prior discussion. Freddie Lounds is likely going to bring it up the next time she shows her face at a crime scene anyway, so this is the easiest way to ease everyone into the idea.” He grinned suddenly, pulling Hannibal to him for a kiss. “It’s not like I’m going to try and keep my eyes off of you at a crime scene anyway, not with the look you get on your face when you’re thinking. It’s… well, it’s pretty damn affecting.”

Hannibal’s heart eased, releasing some of the nervous energy that had been building since the phone began to ring. With the way Will had reacted when they were in public, he had guiltily been expecting another meltdown. This easy, calm reaction was more than he could hope for. He kissed the man in his arms before giving him a gentle push towards the door.

“As much as I had been looking forward to a lie in, it may be best if we make our way to the newest scene posthaste. It will give Jack less of a reason to doubt what I told him on the phone.” Will nodded, his smile faltering.

“I don’t want you to feel like I’m trying to hide, Hannibal. I want this. What we have… it’s important to me in a way that nothing has been in a really long time.” Hannibal nodded in understanding. 

“All the same, for now it’s best that we focus on the work at hand,” he said, his eyes gleaming. “Perhaps at the masquerade, should you choose to divulge the nature of our relationship, it would be the opportune time to do so, since I will be attending as your date.” 

Will smiled and made his way back to the other bedroom, feeling oddly off balance. It took him long moments to put his finger on what was causing his unease, and once it dawned on him, he felt foolish. Not being able to dress in the same room as the other man made him feel like what they had shared was an accident; a mistake to be covered up, even though he was keenly aware of the emotions building between them. He shook his head to clear it of the ridiculous notion as he pulled on a pair of comfortable jeans and a black Henley before donning his jacket and scarf. In the spare bathroom, he pulled a comb through his damp curls, willing them silently into place. He knew it was a futile attempt as he watched as his hair sprang up in every direction. He brushed his teeth and added a touch of aftershave to his neck before leaving the bathroom. In the kitchen, looking delectable in black pants and a soft grey v neck sweater, Hannibal was filling two mugs with freshly brewed coffee. Passing one silently to Will, he grabbed his keys and donned his jacket. They made their way out into the cold morning air, a comfortable silence stretching between them as Hannibal unlocked the car. As Will slid in and buckled his belt, Hannibal’s hand snaked out and grabbed him by the back of the neck. He brought their lips together in a searing kiss before starting the engine, looking as if nothing had just transpired. Will tried to catch his breath, gaping at the man sitting next to him.

“What was that all about?” Hannibal smirked as he backed carefully out of the drive.

“I shall not openly be able to display affection for what could be many hours. I thought it best to attempt to get it out of my system so to speak, before we arrive on the scene.” He smiled wryly, shifting the car into drive. “It would not bode well to be kissing you over a corpse.” Will laughed and reached for Hannibal's hand, playing his fingers in between the spaces made for his own. _Made for? Jesus, how deep am I in?_

“So…” Hannibal glanced over as the road stretched out in front of them, the path familiar enough for him to permit the momentary lapse in concentration.

“So…?” Will sighed, wondering if it was even worth bringing up before bracing himself. _In for a penny, in for the whole damned bank._

“It was weird, having to go to the spare bedroom to dress." His throat tightened with anxiety, but he pressed on. "Maybe... Well, maybe next time I stay over…” Hannibal’s heart thumped warmly in his chest.

“You’d prefer it if your possessions occupied the same space where you sleep?” Will nodded, embarrassed.

“I know it’s juvenile… and it’s not like any of this was planned out or anything. It was just weird leaving you to put my clothes on. Like there was something wrong with what we did.” He breathed hard, letting the words rush out so he didn’t lose his nerve. Hannibal’s hand tightened reassuringly in his own.

“If you’d like to stay again at any time in the future, rest assured you will not be relegated to the spare bedroom, Will. Should we continue to build upon what has begun between us, and should you choose to stay with some regularity, I will clear space for you in the closet and the chest of drawers. But,” he soothed his thumb over the fingers clutching his tightly, “Only if you choose to use them. Nothing needs to be decided for a time, and I do not want you to feel as if you are being rushed into making any kind of declaration about the future. I want you to be comfortable when you are with me, and nothing brings me more joy than you sharing my space.” Will’s heart squeezed as their fingers wound together. The touch felt as natural as breathing and he relished in it, trying to remember a time when any relationship had been this comfortable. _There hasn’t been a time, because nobody has just accepted you for what you are. That’s what Hannibal is doing._

Hannibal drove on, oblivious to the internal conversation taking place and the shift in Will’s emotional state.

He only let go of Will’s hand as he pulled into the crime scene.

***

Jack looked tired as they strolled through the cemetery gates. He also didn’t look happy at the obvious relaxed joy on Will’s face.

“It’s about time. This one is different, but I’m not going to tell you how or why. I don’t want to give it away and ruin what you might be able to tell me. The crime scene is at the top of the hill.” The men began to move in the direction of where he gestured, but Jack stopped them with a small gesture. “Doctor Lecter, if you could stay down here a moment, I’d like a word.” Will and Hannibal exchanged a glance, but Will just shrugged and headed up the hill, Jack’s booming voice issuing commands to clear the scene following him in his wake. When Jack was sure he was out of earshot, he rounded on the doctor.

“Are you two in some kind of relationship?” Hannibal managed to keep the surprise from his face, but it was a near thing. He forced himself to stay relaxed, knowing that Jack would be able to pick up on any shift to his stance or tightness in his shoulders. 

“What makes you ask, Jack?” The agent made a low, frustrated noise in his throat. 

“Answer the question, Doctor Lecter.” Hannibal said nothing, holding the other man’s eye. Jack finally broke and looked away before digging into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes. He selected one with agitated fingers and tried to light it, but the plastic Bic he held just clicked uselessly in his hands. He was startled when Hannibal withdrew his own antique pewter lighter and held it aflame for him to use. “Thanks,” he said around the butt. “I didn’t know you smoked.” Hannibal smiled and clicked the lighter closed, placing it back into his jacket pocket.

“I suspect there is a great deal we do not know about one another, Jack. I don’t smoke. Not anymore. Or at least rarely enough that I can say with what I feel to be complete honesty that I do not smoke.” Jack laughed, some of the tension easing from his shoulders as he did. Hannibal let the silence between them stretch as Jack blew out a plume of smoke into the crisp autumn air. He wasn't disappointed when the man began to speak.

“Freddie Lounds was here earlier, looking for Will as much as trying to get back to the main part of the crime scene to take her lurid photographs. She tried distracting me from sending her packing by alluding to knowing something I didn’t about your relationship with my profiler.” Jack eyed the doctor carefully. “Now, is there something you want to tell me?” Hannibal tensed, anger roiling in his gut at the rudeness of Miss Lounds’s indiscretion. _Perhaps she and I need to have a discussion about her transgressions._ The thought warmed his blood. The monster inside smiled, a great baring of teeth. Sighing, he eyed the cigarette in Jack’s hand, wishing for the first time in many years that he hadn’t given up the habit.

“Will and I may have had a verbal altercation with Miss Lounds last evening. We had eaten out after finding him a suit for the masquerade and had plenty of wine with dinner, leaving us not completely with our faculties. Perhaps we seemed close, but I assure you, if anything is to transpire between us, it will not be for me or Freddie, or anybody else to divulge without you asking Will first. He is your friend and you have known him for a great deal of time.” He paused, looking into Jack’s wary face. “You trust him, as you should trust me. Has he seemed any worse for wear under my care?” Jack smiled wanly and shook his head.

“Quite the opposite in fact. But if there are any romantic inclinations-” Hannibal cut him off with a wave of his hand.

“It would be truly none of your business, as long as Will is able to effectively able to do his job. I will neither confirm nor deny the rumors that have been so carefully planted in your mind Jack, but I will tell you this. Beware the snake under your porch that whispers lies to turn your mind to things you need not consider. For under that same porch is a mongoose, waiting for its next meal.” Hannibal turned and walked up the hill, leaving Jack to finish his cigarette in peace.

***

“I was wondering when you were going to make it up here. What did Jack want?” Will’s voice sounded tense, as if he was trying and barely succeeding to keep himself calm. Hannibal’s heart ached at his trepidation, but honesty in such matters were always best. Still, he attempted to choose his words carefully, so as not to upset Will any more than absolutely necessary. 

“Freddie Lounds was trying to make her way to the crime scene by any means of distraction at her fingertips. She went for the low hanging fruit.” The doctor shrugged. “I’ve since dispelled any of the rumors she may have attempted to plant.” Will’s heart caught in his throat. 

“How did you dispel them?” Hannibal’s eyes met his over the corpses on the ground. The look was tired, but gentle.

“I told Jack exactly what I discussed with you in the car. That it is up to you on what you’d like to divulge about the personal nature of our relationship.” He paused, considering. “I may have also brought to his attention that you are doing particularly well under my care, and that to deter it would be a disservice to what he wants you to accomplish for him and the FBI as a whole.” _Not that I will mention it, but I also alluded to the fact that Freddie will eventually get what's coming to her._ Will laughed.

“You didn’t.” 

“I most certainly did.” Hannibal’s eyes danced, filling with humor. “Now, we must cease this conversation until later. We can’t be laughing over a crime scene. What would people think?” Will’s grin only grew, making Hannibal’s breath catch.

“It’s going to be hard to rein it in when you keep making jokes, Doctor.” The older man smothered his smile and studied the bodies. _This is new. Two corpses beneath a single tree._

“Enough of this until later. What did you discover in this scene?” Will’s eyes sobered as he glanced down. He knelt on the ground, carefully placing his knees where they wouldn’t tamper with evidence. He closed his eyes, and let his mind go quiet before reopening them. Hannibal watched him, fascinated.

“These two girls are related. Sisters from the look of it, probably twins. See how he’s clasped their hands?” He indicated towards the black threads binding their hands together. “They were afraid, but they had eachother and they hung onto it until the very end.” The two young women, clad in black gossamer gowns that clung to their thin figures, looked as if they were asleep. Rigor had come and gone, leaving them relaxed in the early morning light. They wore their hair in an identical fashion, though one had run dark red dye through her chestnut tresses. The color still clung to her scalp like a bloodstain, gleaming against her pale skin.

Will let the pendulum swing.

 _They are a part of whatever it is I’m trying to accomplish, knew my face and cherished it as if I was their lover, or their leader. Maybe both. Gothic romance, the idealized version of escapism into a simpler time, a want or a need to leave behind the mundane to become something extraordinary. I watched as they died. They clung to eachother as their blood drained away. They were afraid of death, afraid of me when death came for them. It doesn’t matter, because I got them in the end._ He touched the girl on the right’s throat, noticing for the first time on any of the corpses, ligature marks. She had been strangled for some time, but it wasn’t how she died. _I wanted you as perfect as the others, but you fought me. I grew tired of waiting for you to calm, so I forced you to pass out. I marred your skin, which is unacceptable._ He said a silent apology as he pushed the girl’s thighs apart.No bite mark. _You were imperfect, so no third mark._ He checked the girl on the left. No bite. _You begged me too much when I choked your sibling. I couldn’t take either of you, but neither could I waste the opportunity for a display. It’s already been too long since the last one._

“He’s getting sloppy. The girl on the right struggled. We may find some evidence on her because she fought harder than any of the others before her. Her sister had been the one to talk her into it, and in the end, she tried to back out. He choked-” his breath caught as the vision of what had been done to her rose up in his mind. Hannibal’s hand descended on his shoulder, a warm and comforting weight. He unconsciously leaned into the touch as he continued. “He forced this, maybe not sexually, but the physical thrill of overpowering those who are afraid of him… that’s part of what is becoming his ritual. He didn’t like the marks he left on her skin, so he deemed her ‘unworthy of the third mark’. Her sister was left without it as well, as if he couldn’t keep one without the other. A perfect, matched set.” His voice shook, but he was determined to finish. “He put them here in the normal pose he uses. They are in black because of their imperfections. He still wants us to know it’s him- the stakes are the same wood, the poses are the same. But he also wants us to know that they are other, outside of what he’s trying to accomplish. Imperfection is ugliness to him, especially when he is the one who causes it.” He turned and stared into the blood and gold gaze boring into him, breathing hard. “He’s getting sloppy, Hannibal. He knows the noose is tightening, but his grand scheme is still unrealized. We will see an increased number of multiple victims before this is over.”

Hannibal nodded, his eyes thoughtful. Will began to shake and the doctor drew him into his arms without a thought. _Jack and the world be damned, I will keep you sane before I worry about what they think of this._ “Have you any clue as to what ties them together?” The younger man nodded against his neck, his answer muffled.

“The symbol is present on both; a necklace for the sister on the left, a charm on a bracelet for the one on the right. I don’t know why, but it looks familiar to me. I haven’t quite placed it, but I know it from somewhere." Will pulled away slightly to regard Hannibal, his eyes tired and haunted, but calculating. Thinking. "On the way home, can we please make a stop at the bookstore at Woodholme? I want to check something, and it would be easier to go there than to try and remember what I’m looking for by doing an Internet search.” Hannibal nodded, watching his mouth as he spoke, begging the gods for some restraint. _What I wouldn't give to kiss you in this moment. I would agree to anything, you delectable man. The dangers you pose to me with only your body. Should your mind ever focus solely on me, you could very well be my undoing, in more ways than one._

“Of course. What do you expect to find?” 

“The symbol they’re wearing. I already took a picture of it. I’m guessing it’s going to lead us to how he’s choosing them but until I know what it is, I can’t be certain. I’d just like to find out what it is before I draw any conclusions.” He pulled away slightly at the sound of Jack’s footsteps coming up the hill. Hannibal didn’t relinquish his grip. It made Will smile. Turning, the profiler spoke for Jack’s ears, relaying all the information he ascertained as the agent watched the men in front of him rather than studying the bodies. Determined to remain unaffected, Will pressed on.

“It’s going to get bad, Jack. We have to move quickly. I’m going to do some research on our way back. I should have an answer as to how they’re being chosen for you in a few hours if I’m right. We need to put a stop to this. He knows we are closing in, and he still hasn’t realized his grand design." Will unconsciously leaned further into Hannibal's arms, thinking hard before continuing. "I have a feeling the time of year is not by chance, either. He wants to conclude what he is doing by Halloween, and the bodies will pile up until he’s brought down.” As Jack opened his mouth to speak, a high condescending voice floated up from the bottom of the hill.

“Well isn’t this cozy? The blinding light of a camera flash made Will reel back as he brought his hand in front of his eyes. He glared down at Freddie Lounds, who had managed to make it past the line of officers and agents keeping any onlookers away from the scene. She snapped another quick succession of photos before continuing. “I didn’t know it was now FBI protocol to bring your fuck buddy to a crime scene. What is he, your new security blanket?” She leered up at him, camera raised. “Does he keep you on a leash, Will?” She laughed when he bared his teeth at her, camera shuttering as it snapped another picture. “You’re making this too easy.” She stepped deftly out of the way of Jack’s outstretched hands and turned back towards her car. “Thanks for the material, boys. I can’t wait to see what my readers think of your newfound handler, Will. Hopefully, he can keep some of your psychotic tendencies in check!” With that, she disappeared through the crowd in a flurry of red curls and cheap perfume. 

Will, panting in Hannibal’s arms, tried to go after her, but Hannibal held him back. The more he pulled against the other man’s touch, the tighter he held him. The doctor’s lips found Will’s ear as he tried to calm him.

“Do not concern yourself with Miss Lounds for now. Let us conclude your conversation with Jack and make our way home. We can discuss her when you are not in such a heightened emotional state.” Will slumped in his arms, shaking.

“I don’t understand why she seeks me out and tries to rile me up. I never did anything to her to deserve it. Not now and not before, with the Shrike,” Hannibal stroked a hand through his curls comfortingly, speaking softly into his ear.

“She is a parasite, Will. And like parasites do, she latches on to the thing that easily gives her the most sustenance. In this case, it’s your reactions to her. I will help you build some immunity to her more profane remarks, but much of it will come down to you.” He cradled the younger man’s face in his hands, not caring that Jack was still staring at them. “Freddie Lounds will get what’s coming to her, Will. People in her profession make enemies. Eventually, she will upset the wrong person and she will either learn from her grave mistakes... or not live to repeat them.” The words were for Will’s ears only, and for that he was grateful. He could hear the subtle threat laced within them, and he clung tightly to the knowledge that Hannibal would to to great lengths to protect him. Hannibal pulled back and their eyes met, understanding of a kind passing between them. Will nodded, taking a deep breath, and when he turned his eyes back to Jack, they were once again calm and focused.

“I am going to do some research. I’m hoping to have some answers for you by tonight. Did you need anything more from either of us before we take our leave?” Jack shook his head, meeting neither man’s gaze. They made their way down the hill, avoiding the rest of the forensics team as they did so. Hannibal unlocked the car and they climbed in, speeding off into the daylight towards the bookstore.

***

“I will never understand the appeal of tawdry romance, especially when it’s intended for those who are just discovering that sexuality is a power that can be wielded.” Hannibal took a sip of the coffee they procured at the in-store cafe as they perused the teen section, specifically looking for anything pertaining to supernatural romance. Will knew he’d seen the symbol on the cover of a book, and he was positive it had been written for an audience in their infancy of sexual attraction. He glanced at the doctor, who was looking dubiously at the cover of a popular vampire series with amusement. 

“It’s supposedly written at a reading level that can be understood by people in that age group, but it’s not just for them. They’ve become insanely popular over the last few years, especially with the ‘tawdry’ romance types of all ages. I’ve even heard some of them referred to as ‘bodice rippers’.” Will’s eyes skimmed the books, frowning. _I know it’s from this section somewhere but which one is it?_ Hannibal stood at his side, quietly horrified.

“You seem to have a better grasp on what is popular in modern fiction than most, luckily for the FBI. I doubt many would be of much help in this particular realm.” Will smiled distractedly as they rounded the corner, his eyes searching the shelves. 

“Maybe, but it doesn’t seem to be helping much now. I can’t seem to find-” His eyes snagged on a large hard backed book on the shelf on the opposite side of the isle. In the upper corner along the spine, was what he was looking for. He pulled it from the shelf, groaning in realization. Digging out his phone, he dialed Jack’s number. 

“Jack? Yeah, I found it. You’re either going to laugh, or want to throw something. I really want to do both right now. It’s the main symbol in a popular roleplaying game. It’s called- are you listening? It’s called Vampire the Masquerade.” He paused as Jack’s guffaw filled his ears, causing him to pull the phone back. He caught Hannibal’s eye and rolled his own. 

“Yes, it’s funny, but not so much if bodies keep hitting the ground. I’d get someone on looking up everything they can find on it. And look into local player groups. That’s how you’ll find him.” He paused again, listening to Jack’s response. “No, I’m not going to do the legwork for you. That’s not my expertise. You’ve got interns to put on it. I’m going to get back to enjoying my weekend. Don’t call unless you find him or another body.” He ended the call and put his phone back into his pocket. Taking a sip of coffee, he looked around for Hannibal, who was busy perusing a copy of the book on which the killer was basing his narrative. He looked up when he felt the younger man’s gaze.

“I cannot believe that your killer’s grand design is based off of a roleplaying game.” The scorn in his voice was palpable, thickening his accent. Will laughed and took the book from his grasp, replacing it on the shelf. 

“Hey, there was once a woman who killed her child for being interrupted while playing a farming game on social media. It’s not so unheard of for people to get lost within a fantasy.” He headed in the direction of the exit, depositing his now empty coffee cup into the trash as they passed. Turning back, he regarded the man behind him. “We are done with Jack for the day. Was there anything you needed to accomplish while we are out? You may as well do it while I’m with you. It will save you another trip later.” Hannibal shook his head, taking another sip of his coffee.

“No, I have nothing of importance to do today. If you have nothing you need, we can head back, if that suits.” Will nodded and they made their way towards the doors of the bookstore. He managed to beat the doctor to the entrance, and held the door open for him, placing a hand on his back as he passed through. The contact made Hannibal’s heart beat hard as happiness filled his chest. As they walked to the car, he took Will's hand, lacing their fingers together as if they walked like this every day. Will smiled and tightened their hold, letting the unfamiliar feeling of rightness in their touch fill his soul. _So this is what it’s supposed to feel like, having someone who you can call yours._ Hannibal opened his car door, pulling him in for a kiss before allowing him to climb in. The contact was brief, but he could feel the doctor's desire like ambrosia on his tongue. He couldn’t wait to get back.

***

“I should head home and check on my dogs.” They were in the kitchen, both in some state of undress when the necessity dawned on him. When they had returned to Hannibal’s house, it had started to rain and they had let the early afternoon slip by in quiet relaxation. Will had begun the notes on the lecture he would need to complete for what they knew of the Blood Drinker case, helped by Hannibal’s insight when he fact checked the profile he was building. The doctor had begun a professional paper on the pathology of fantasy in modern murders, intent on submitting it once the case was completed. It had taken a full hour of brushes of fingertips when reaching for glasses on the coffee table and tangling legs together on the couch before they couldn’t concentrate. Hannibal had pushed him prone and devoured his mouth, effectively shutting down any further work that would have gotten done on his lecture notes. The notes themselves had ended up on the floor, all but forgotten in the wake of their need. They had kissed until their lips were swollen and Will was so hard, any friction would have made him come in his pants like a teenager. The sound of his zipper in the quiet air as Hannibal had freed his cock had been deafening, and the first touch of the doctor’s lips to his skin had been almost enough to undo him. It had taken several agonizing minutes of breathing through his teeth and barely a touch of the other man’s lips before he had reined himself in enough to enjoy it. By the time he had come, shaking and pleading as Hannibal had taken him into his throat, he thought he’d die from the sensation. His skin, much to Hannibal’s delight, had remained sensitive for long minutes afterward, and Will shivered at the lightest caresses of his clever fingers. When he had attempted to return the favor, Hannibal had stopped him with a kiss.

“Do not worry yourself over reciprocity, darling. There will be time, so much time, for you to give to me. I do not want you to feel as if we are keeping tally of who has the most orgasms. That is not what intimacy is about.” Will’s cheeks had flared with color when the other man spoke, but he was almost bonelessly relaxed. Instead, he let his hands play over the muscles in Hannibal’s back gently coaxing him into relaxing against him. The doctor had groaned when he came upon a knot, his head dropping forward as Will attempted to work it out from their awkward angle. After minutes of struggling, Will took Hannibal’s hand and lead him to the bedroom. When they got to the bed, he had stripped the sweater from his body, removing his pants as well, ensuring him it was for comfort only. Hannibal had dubiously agreed, then laid face down upon the bed. Will spent the next hour astride his hips, working out the soreness and tension in his lover’s back. The play of muscles beneath his hands had been endlessly fascinating, as had learning Hannibal’s cues to what he wanted; a tiny hitch of breath meant a sore spot that needed gentler care, a groan meant he could press harder. There were endless combinations to unravel in between and both men had fallen into the quiet enjoyment of skin contact. Hannibal had been putty in his hands when he had finished. When Will made an attempt to get up, he had looped an arm around his waist and dragged him back beneath the covers. They had fallen asleep in a pile of tired limbs, sated in their own ways.

When they awoke, both men realized they hadn’t eaten anything beyond the two cups of coffee they downed, and had gotten dressed enough to make something to eat. Standing in the kitchen as Hannibal put the finishing touches on the omelets they made, Will realized that the fantasy they had constructed over the weekend would now be at an end. The thought of returning home to a place where Hannibal would not be made his stomach churn. Suddenly, he wasn’t hungry after all.

Hannibal, sensing the change in his mood, kissed his shoulder as he distributed bacon to each plate. He gestured to where their places were set and Will took his seat reluctantly. Hannibal watched as he poured them both large glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice.

“You do need to tend to your animals, but that doesn’t mean that once your business at home is concluded that you can’t return. It is still early, relatively speaking, and we can prepare something for tomorrow’s lunch together.” Will’s eyes widened as Hannibal cut a piece of his omelet. 

“Aren’t you tired of my company yet?” The look he earned would stay in his mind for weeks to come.

“No, Will. I do not believe there will come a time when I tire of your company.” The meaning sank in, feeling enormous in its sincerity, and the profiler let it burn away the doubts threatening to overtake him as Hannibal continued. “Should you choose to return, simply bring a set of clothing with you for tomorrow. You are welcome to spend the night here, with me.” He planted a gentle kiss to Will’s temple before returning his attention to his food.

Will smiled, the nervous bubble in his chest dissipating, and began to eat. 

***

As Hannibal watched Will pull out of the drive with the promise to text when he planned to return, the doctor let the weekend’s developments filter through his mind, cataloging each event and storing them in various rooms of his memory palace. The taste of Will’s skin had it’s own corridor, the sound of his name on the profiler’s tongue as he came filled a foyer with its music. Sighing, he moved away from the window and into the kitchen to clean up the mess from their meal. As he put the dishes away, he allowed himself to peruse the conversations that had been instigated by the foul reporter who seemed insistent on turning Will into a wreck. He would need to ask Will about his history with the reporter when he returned. His inner monster growled, a silent cry for blood to spill echoing in his chest. Hannibal couldn’t disagree with the desire, but it would have to be done with the utmost care so as to avoid any suspicion. He hadn’t managed to stay low on the radar for so many years only to be brought down by the destruction of a tabloid reporter.

He crossed to the hollow wall in the kitchen, looking for all intents and purposes as if it was solid wood, and slid open the panel that revealed the locked door leading to his basement. He removed a set of keys from the hook concealed within the small corridor and opened the heavy metal door. Not bothering to turn on the light of the stairway, he made his way down into the depths of his killing space. He stopped in front of his workbench and retrieved a burner phone, one of many he kept in his possession for such events as this. It wasn’t difficult to look up Freddie’s home address and phone number. Although unlisted, she wasn’t the first person he canvassed that thought themselves to be well versed in privacy. He pulled up her location with ease, checking for street accessibility and privacy should things turn out that he could not bring her with him. Tonight would not do, not with Will returning in such a short time, but if she kept up her foolish behavior, it would be soon. _Perhaps before the masquerade._ Smiling to himself, he decided to give her a final warning. Before retreating upstairs, he called a florist near the young woman’s home. As he waited for the on the line, he wondered about the condition of Freddie’s liver, his mind sifting through recipes he might attempt. Finally, the call was picked up and a gruff voice came over the line.

“Brighton’s. How can I help?”

“Good afternoon, I’d like to place an order to be delivered within the week.” Hannibal heard a clicking sound as the clerk brought up their ordering system.

“Okay, what did you want to order?” 

“Two dozen white Chrysanthemums to be delivered to Miss Freddie Lounds, preferably Thursday afternoon. I have her home address handy when you are ready.” The clerk typed away, humming.

“A card comes with the flowers, sir. Did you want to add a note?” Hannibal smiled.

“Please.” He relayed the phrase he wanted on the card to the confused clerk, insisting the recipient would understand the meaning, even if he did not.

“Okay, Mister. Whatever you say. How’d you want to pay?” Hannibal turned on the desk lamp and pulled a card from the drawer where he kept the information for his aliases. The card’s name was listed as Roman Fell. He read the details to the man on the other line, confirming the date the flowers would be delivered and the delivery address before ending the call. He turned the phone off and replaced it within its holder on the table. Turning off the desk lamp, he stood within the room, absorbing the dark purpose the surroundings always seemed to emanate. Once he took his fill, he turned and walked slowly up the stairs, closing the door behind him. He could already hear the woman’s screams if she was foolish and found herself within his grasp, a symphony of pain that would sate the dark part of his psyche for a time. Until the decision was made, he had to distract himself with other, purer thoughts. It would do him no good to have Will discover within him the truth of who he was. Not until he could be sure Will was ready to know.

Humming to himself, he picked up his notes for the paper he would write on the Blood Drinker’s pathology, and began to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> White Chrysanthemums are the flower most often used in Europe to symbolize death. While we use white lilies in the US, it seemed more fitting to choose a bloom that would be known throughout Hannibal's country of origin.


	9. Beast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me for not posting on Sunday. The weekend escaped from me in sleeping in for a change. 
> 
> Enjoy the new chapter, darlings. <3

_Everyone is a moon,_   
_And has a dark side_   
_Which he never shows_   
_To anybody._   
_-Mark Twain_

* * *

**Friday, The Day Before the Masquerade**

“Put your hands up and get on the ground!” 

“I said get on the ground, mother fucker!” 

“Somebody stop him! I said stop him! Don’t kill him, stop him!”

“Sir? Yeah, we’ve got him in custody. You may want to send your profiler and his doctor. They’ll want to see the basement. There are… videos we think, sir. And other things. What? No, we haven’t seen her yet. We’ve got every officer here watching for her though. Even a hint and we will detain her until you arrive. I’m not sure she will be stupid enough to show up on the scene. What? No, he’s in route to you now, sir. We will secure the scene. Copy that.”

***

Will looked up from the podium in alarm as Jack burst through the doors of the lecture hall.

“Everybody out! Will, we’ve got to go. They’ve caught the Blood Drinker. I need you on the scene. Campbell said something about the basement.” Will’s blood went cold. He left his lecture notes where they were and sprinted to his office as Jack turned the corner, opening Hannibal’s door.

“Hannibal- Sorry Agent Buchanan, you can reschedule your appointment, now get out. Hannibal, we need you at a scene. We’ve got the Blood Drinker in custody, but we need Will to take a look. Something about the basement.” Will appeared at Jack’s elbow, staring glassy eyed into Hannibal’s office. The doctor stood and set aside his notes. He looked apologetically at the agent still sitting in the leather chair opposite him, appearing startled and unsure. Reaching out, he drew the man’s attention.

“I apologize, David. I can reschedule you for next week, the same time if that suits your needs. I appreciate your understanding.” The agent in question stood and scurried past Jack and Will, keeping his eyes down as Hannibal reached for his overcoat and keys. Turning to the two men still framed in his doorway, he nodded.

“Jack, text the address to Will and be on your way. We will be right behind you. Are they bringing him here?” Jack nodded, a fierce grin gracing his features. Hannibal inclined his head, pleased. “Excellent. We will want a chance to observe his first interactions with you if at all possible. It will help us determine if he is giving you all the information available to close this case and lock him away.” 

“Excellent. I would very much appreciate the insight. I’ll meet you at the scene.” Jack clapped Will on the shoulder as he moved past, sprinting down the hall. Will met Hannibal’s eyes as he gathered his notes and filed them away to ensure their confidentiality. 

“We got him, Hannibal.” The quiet finality in his voice made Hannibal’s heart quicken. The doctor nodded, smiling gently at the profiler. Will’s eyes still looked glassy, nervous. Hannibal donned his overcoat and moved to the door, pulling Will inside and closing it behind him. When their privacy was ensured, he cupped Will’s face, drawing his focus into the present. He watched with concern as Will tried to speak.

“I don’t think I can face him. Not another one, not after the Shrike.” The fear that laced into his words at the admission of his weakness tugged hard at Hannibal’s heart. _He is afraid of what will happen if forced to face yet another killer brought to heel with his gift. He doesn’t know if he can be drawn into the fray without facing the consequences._ Gently, Hannibal brought their lips together, the barest brush of skin. Will made a small noise in his throat, lost. He wrapped his arms around the doctor’s waist and pulled him close, deepening the brush of lips to a passionate kiss, leaving them both a little breathless. When Hannibal met his eyes, they were once again clear. Smiling, he kissed Will’s forehead as he opened the door to admit them into the hall.

“You forget so quickly that you no longer have to face your monsters alone. We will combat this new darkness together, and you can draw upon my strength when you need it. You never have to worry about your weaknesses. That is why you have me.” Will smiled wanly as they moved through the halls towards the parking garage.

“You’re right. I know you’re right. I’m more concerned… well, I’m worried about the fact that I’m going to want to hurt him. It would be right, just. He deserves to be displayed like all of those people he killed, but as one of their victims instead of the glorious commander that he sees in himself.” His voice sounded bitter, and as Hannibal listened to his outburst, it shook him to his core. _Just as I think that my capacity to feel for you and understand who you are has reached its limits, you surprise me. You are more to me than you could ever imagine, mylimasis._ Outwardly, he tilted his head as he regarded the man next to him.

“Perhaps he deserves a different kind of justice, but it is not for us to dispense. However, you can look him in the eye and remind him that you know who he is, that he is not as invincible as he once thought himself to be. You can tell him in no uncertain terms that he shall remain where he is as he grows old and weak. And you can inform him that it was you that put him there. That should suffice for now, don’t you think?” Will sighed and nodded, climbing into the passenger seat of Hannibal’s car. They had spent almost every evening together since the weekend, and Will was as comfortable within Hannibal’s vehicle as his own. It was a secret joy that he didn’t have to concentrate on the drive in the morning, but could instead allow his mind to wander to more pleasant things, such as the infrequency in which he now slept alone. Hannibal climbed in beside him and started the engine, backing out of the parking garage with some haste. As he pulled out onto the road, he risked a glance at the man beside him before gently taking his hand, his thumb skimming across his knuckles reassuringly.

“We will glean what we need from the basement. I will be with you the entire time we are there, so do not fret. There will not be a moment when I will allow myself to be called from your side today. Should you lose yourself Will, know I will be there to bring you back.” Will smiled distractedly, wondering what it was that they were about to find. The drive lost its familiarity and took them deep into upper class white suburbia; a place of homeowner’s associations and backyard barbecues. _This is the last place anybody ever expected to find you, yet here you are, a wolf amongst sheep. Are these people your friends? Your neighbors who thought they knew you?_ Will’s stomach churned as they reached the crime scene, a nondescript mid-sized home set back amongst large trees and an expansive front lawn. Jack was already there, waiting for them. Will took a deep breath, and climbed out of the car. Hannibal emerged from the driver’s seat, smiling reassuringly at the profiler. Will nodded and moved in the direction of the agent before he grew impatient, trying all the while to keep his fears under control. 

_And into the darkness we must go._

***

The house was as pristine on the inside as it appeared outside; clean white furniture, tasteful decor. It was the picture of normalcy. Photographs of a nondescript, smiling man with mousy brown hair and muddy eyes graced one wall. In them were all different kinds of people, some obviously related to him, sharing his features, some likely to be close friends. Will was startled to see a picture of him with the twins that had been his last victims prominently displayed in the center of the collection. Anger bubbled hot in his gut as he forced himself to move through the rest of the now empty house, Hannibal following silently at his side like a well dressed apparition. Other than the wall that contained his victims, there was nothing of interest in the house at all. The one small bookcase next to the TV held mostly Manga with a few novels by Stephen King and Dean Koontz. No vampire fiction at all, unless they could count ‘Salem’s Lot, but Will doubted they would. Rounding the corner into the kitchen, Will spotted a blender containing the dredges of what appeared to be Christopher Scott Pembleton’s last breakfast in his home. The identity of the Blood Drinker was even more disappointing than he had expected it to be. Boy in his mother’s basement was always a possibility, but this nondescript member of suburbia was more unnerving.

Along the far wall within the kitchen was an opening that showed a set of steps leading downward. _Finally._ Will took a deep breath and descended into the darkness of the basement, leaving the lights of the stairway turned off. There was enough light from the depths that he didn’t need it. The stairs creaked with his weight, and a feeling of dread settled into his stomach like a chunk of ice as he stepped further away from the daylight pouring through the kitchen windows. He wondered wildly if there was going to be another body, one being prepared for a new display, but his worries were laid to rest as he stepped fully into the basement. Where boards should have been stood were ornately carved wood paneled walls, looking artificial and out of place in the gloom. The floors had been covered with dusty and faded red carpet, worn down with use and age. A large industrial refrigerator stood in one corner, glass doors gleaming. Inside, Will could see various marked jars filled with a dark red liquid. When he realized what they must contain, his stomach roiled. _So he was keeping their blood after all, but for what purpose?_ He ignored the jars. He would come back to them if need be.

Standing on a dais at the very center of the room was a large, ornate coffin. Will guessed that if they traced its origin, they’d find that it was constructed in the early 1900s. The elaborate carvings upon the polished wooden surface spoke of a quiet opulence; a piece used for displays and not for burials. Thankful he had remembered gloves, he ran his hands along the outer surface as he pictured the man from the pictures upstairs sleeping within its confines, hoping one day that he could truly rise from the dead, rather than it be just a place he wanted to sleep because it brought him closer to his fantasy. Turning away in disgust, he took in the rest of the decor; thick black and blood red hangings were strung from the roof to surround the coffin itself, shrouding it from view as much as it drew attention to it. A plush winged back chair that looked to be constructed in the same era as the coffin sat in one corner, facing a small television set equipped with a digital recording hookup. On the farthest wall from the staged setup, was a stainless steel table and operating cart. On top of the cart stood an ornate wooden box a little larger than a set of playing cards. Will opened the box, knowing before he did so what he would find contained within. Glancing at Hannibal, he turned the opened box for him to see. Resting on the red velvet lining was a set of snap on porcelain fangs, obviously well designed and expensive. _Probably requested from a dentist._ _These are definitely a custom piece, not something he would have been able to purchase online._

As Will completed his mental catalog of the contents of the room, Jack wandered down to join them. He stopped when he reached the edge of the stairs and watched as Will’s mind finished taking in what there was to see. When their eyes met, Jack gave a small apologetic smile and glanced around the room himself. Will watched as Jack took in the surroundings before he addressed him.

“What am I doing here, Jack? What is it that you need me to see before you take apart his setup?” Jack watched his face as he spoke.

“I want you to give me a final assessment. I may need you to look at the recordings once they’ve been cataloged. I want to make sure that in our fumbling we don’t miss something that will allow this bastard to walk.” Will nodded and moved towards the wing backed chair. Next to the television stood a skinny wooden bookcase so tall it almost reached the ceiling. Almost every shelf contained books and magazines haphazardly strewn in no discernible order. One section of the middle shelf was covered in dried red and black candle wax, the hardened material streaming down the front of the wood like macabre icicles. The topmost shelf was the only one containing a series of books with any semblance of order. Upon closer inspection, Will found that it contained every guide to Vampire the Masquerade, as well as several books on modern witchcraft and paganism. He sighed as he took in the sight and selected one of the guides at random. The book was stained dark red along its surface and Will dropped it as if it had burned him. Ashen faced, he turned to Jack with wild eyes.

“The books are covered in blood, so you’ll need to catalog and test them separately. It’s likely they’ll have the blood of at least one victim on each surface,” he said, shaking. Taking a deep breath, he turned to face both men, who were watching him with careful curiosity. “Both of you need to leave. I need to study the room.” Jack nodded, but Hannibal moved forward, reaching for his arm. Will stepped away from him, nodding towards the stairs. “I’m fine, Doctor Lecter,” he mumbled, not meeting Hannibal’s concerned gaze. “Let me do this so we can get the hell out of here.” Hannibal nodded, but didn’t move until Jack called to him from the top of the stairs.

“C’mon Hannibal, I want this case over with. I want to go home and hug my wife.” Hannibal turned away, the hurt in his eyes clearing before he reached Jack. Without a word, he walked out of the house. Will couldn’t bring himself to care just yet. He wanted to finish, and this was the only way he could. _He will understand._ _There will be time to make sure he knows why._

Closing his eyes, he let the pendulum swing.

The room before him reordered itself to the way it looked before the cops arrived. He saw Pembleton take a woman to the table, already weak with the loss of blood. Carefully, he inserted his teeth and bit down into the neck of his victim, a faceless female that could have been any of them. She fought weakly as he withdrew, picking up her wrist as he did. The bite here hurt worse, so he ensured to hold her down as he bit. The third bite would be administered almost at the moment of death, high up on the juncture of her thigh.

 _I make you helpless, and I make it hurt. I want you to struggle, but only enough that it makes me feel powerful. I make sure I can get the last bite perfect, so I wait for you to be almost gone before I take my chances. I want to be close to you physically, but not while you’re alive. I will take my pleasure at the moment of your death, time it perfectly with your last exhalation. I’ve been using the blood_ … oh god. Will made his way upstairs, legs shaking. He stumbled to the kitchen counter where the smoothie cup still sat. Peering inside, he saw exactly what he expected to find; mixed with the dredges of organic matter from plants were rust colored specks that could only be blood. Turning from the kitchen, he walked outside to find Jack. He didn’t need to see anymore. He saw him standing with Hannibal at the edge of the crowd that had gathered at the yellow tape marking off the scene. Unsure on his feet, he made his way in their direction.

“Jack-” Jack turned as Will’s vision swam. _Too much. It’s too much, too bright, too clean. The perfection of this neighborhood is a lie, marred by the man who used to live here. Do they know? Do they…_

As he collapsed to the ground, the last thing he heard was Hannibal’s voice, calling his name as if from far away. Grateful for the reprieve, he let the darkness swallow him whole.

***

“When will he awaken, Doctor?” Hannibal looked into the worried eyes of Jack Crawford and tried to push down his frustration with the man. _He cannot be thrust into your world at every whim you have and survive it. He hides now, because there is only so much his mind can take._ He sighed and looked back into Will’s serene face, silently begging him to open his eyes. _He shouldn’t have been inside without me_ , he thought bitterly. _He shouldn’t have attempted to face what was there without a safeguard. Now all we can do is wait._ He regarded the man standing next to him, letting his anger cool before he tried to reply.

“I don’t know how long it will take, Jack,” he said quietly. “My most optimistic guess would be another hour. It could be until tonight before he fully awakens. There is no telling-”

“Hannibal?” Will’s voice was so quiet and strained, the doctor thought he had imagined it. He turned to see the profiler attempting to sit up from the couch in his office. Hurrying to his side, he gently pushed him back to lay against the cushions. A light fever had broken out along his skin, sweat glistening on his brow. Hannibal took a seat next to him, hand in the center of his chest to ensure he didn’t try to sit back up.

“Lie back, Will. You had a spell at the scene. We will get to that soon. Jack?” The man behind him started as if he had forgotten where he was. Hannibal gestured to his desk vaguely, keeping his tired, worried eyes on the man on the couch. “There is a pitcher and glass with water on my desk. Please bring them here.” He raised his hands to Will’s face, tilting it so he could stare into his eyes. They looked exhausted and drawn, but there seemed to be no lingering effects of the fainting spell. Jack handed him a glass of water, which he held out to Will. The profiler looked at him questioningly, clearly not fully coherent just yet.

“Take this and drink. You are likely still experiencing some of the shock from the crime scene. What is the last thing you remember?” Will took the glass and drank, the liquid catching in his throat. He coughed as Hannibal took the glass. Handing it absentmindedly back to Jack, Hannibal rubbed Will’s back, helping him get his breath under control. When he seemed to be breathing easier, Hannibal took his hand. “What is the last thing you remember?” Will’s brow furrowed as he thought hard.

“The- the basement. I was in the basement, and I found something. Then I remember-” his eyes widened as he turned to meet Jack’s eyes. “I remember. I found something that will tie him to the crimes. Do we have him in custody?” Jack nodded, watching Will with careful, curious eyes. Will nodded to himself. “Good. Swab the inside of his mouth. Check the contents of his kitchen too. The glass he used this morning. And the blender cup.” He stared into Jack’s eyes, the horror rising back up into his mind like a black wave, threatening to crush him in its wake. He began to shake, but he had to get it all out before he let himself sleep again. “He’s drinking their blood, Jack. It’s in the blender with his smoothies. He’s likely been mixing it into his food as well. I would check the contents of his fridge for meals he’s prepared. You will probably find it in his mouth, too. He’s been storing their blood so he can ingest it.” The shivering overtook him as Jack clapped him on the shoulder, then backed away. He turned and left the room without another word. Exhausted, Will allowed his eyes to fall closed. He felt Hannibal very carefully move closer to him on the couch. Without thinking, he leaned into him, seeking the comfort he so often and easily found in the doctor. He felt Hannibal stiffen slightly before carefully wrapping an arm around his back. He was too tired to question the movement, but knew he should. It was unlike them to let anything go without being said between them.

“I’m sorry I asked you to leave. I should have known better.” Hannibal relaxed, pulling him closer. He placed a soft kiss on the profiler’s cheek before speaking.

“I understand why you did, Will. But it’s likely that this would not have happened had you let me stay.” Will leaned deeper into his hold, resting his head on the doctor’s shoulder. He kept his eyes closed as he drew deep, slow breaths. _A trick Hannibal taught me._

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I just wanted to be done with all of it. I wanted to be out of that house and away from the death there. I couldn’t face it anymore, not after the blood soaked books, but I knew Jack wouldn’t let me go unless I told him something useful. Then-” His breath caught in his throat. “Then I got out into the light and air and it was just too much.” His breath hitched in his chest, threatening to lock in his throat. Hannibal’s hand immediately started rubbing slow, comforting circles onto his back, the gentle touches offered so good, Will wanted to weep. Slowly, the worst of the tightness loosened.

“You need time to trust me,” he murmured into Will’s curls. “Because we have become so close, I often forget how little time has truly passed since our meeting. It feels like years, when it has not yet been a month.” Will’s heart beat hard at the words. Turning his head, he caught Hannibal’s lips in a gentle kiss before pressing his forehead into the doctor’s chest.

“Can you take me home, please? I can’t do anything more today. The rest of what will need to happen will have to wait.” Hannibal nodded, extricating himself from Will’s grasp. Standing, he regarded the man on the couch, shivering and pale beneath his overcoat. _Jack does not deserve what you give him, not at the cost._ Sighing, he turned and moved towards the door. 

“Wait here and rest. I am going to inform Jack that we are leaving for the day, and that he is not to contact either of us until we see him tomorrow at the masquerade.” He opened the door and went in search of the agent, quietly cursing the man for his neglect of Will’s mental wellbeing. 

Walking to his office to see if he happened to be in, he instead found another guest waiting to speak with him, a visitor’s badge pinned neatly to her chest. Freddie Lounds stared up at him from her seat, a sly smile playing on her lips.

“Hello again, Doctor Lecter. Nice to see you.” She glanced around, her eyes searching the halls for another familiar face. “Where’s your pet profiler? I heard he fainted at the crime scene today.” She reached into her purse for her recorder. “Care to make a comment on his obvious instability and how it negatively affects his ability to do his job?” Before Hannibal could question his actions, he closed the distance between them and pinned her hand on her bag, effectively trapping the recorder inside. Holding her startled gaze, he pulled on the barely visible wire taped to her lapel, breaking the hidden microphone clean off. “H-Hey!” She tried to fight, but the damage was done. She wouldn’t be able to record any useful information while interviewing Jack without his explicit knowledge.

Just as he opened his mouth to respond, Jack’s door swung open. A tall, stern faced man exited, shaking Jack’s hand.

“Wonderful work as always, Agent Crawford. Good to know we’ve got him behind bars at last.” Jack nodded graciously, ignoring both Freddie and Hannibal.

“Thanks again, Director. I will have the report on your desk as soon as it’s complete.” Director Burke nodded, smiling his grim little smile, and strode off down the hallway. Jack turned to address the two still standing at the doorway to his office, choosing to speak to Freddie first.

“Miss Lounds, you’ll get your information when everyone else does, so if you came here to ask questions about the Blood Drinker arrest, you can see yourself out.” She opened her mouth to speak, but Jack overrode her. “Anna,” he said, calling to his secretary. “Would you be so kind as to see Miss Lounds out? She has already overstayed her welcome. And,” he let his voice rise slightly, “be sure to have security escort her so she doesn’t make any unnecessary stops. Good day, Freddie.”

“Sure thing, Agent Crawford. This way, Miss Lounds,” Jack’s secretary, a delightful woman in her 50s, approached and talked quietly to the reporter as she gathered her things and made her way to the elevator. Hannibal noted with some amusement that she didn’t bother looking back at them as she was escorted from the building. Once she disappeared, Jack turned back to the doctor, amused.

“How can I help you, Hannibal?” Hannibal smiled benignly, his pleasure at Jack’s dismissal of the reporter clear on his face.

“I wanted to inform you that I am taking Will home for the day. He will provide you with notes for the case on Monday when he lectures. He has a slight fever, so I would very much appreciate it if you can refrain from contacting him for the rest of the evening. I want to be sure he is feeling well enough to attend the function tomorrow.” Jack grinned and nodded.

“With all the excitement, I almost forgot that’s tomorrow. You two are coming together I take it?” Hannibal nodded, carefully allowing the agent to see some of the affection he felt for Will in his eyes. 

“You once asked me to assist you in convincing him to attend. I believe I’ve done that, and with more ease than you’d guess.” Jack laughed and clapped the doctor on the back.

“Good. You two go home and get some rest. I’ll be sure to keep everyone out of your hair for the rest of the day. Make sure he’s prepared to have a good time tomorrow, okay?” Hannibal nodded, pleased by Jack’s reaction.

“We will be ready, Jack. See you tomorrow then?” Jack nodded, shaking his hand before reaching for his office door.

“Yes. See you then.” Jack let himself back into his office, closing the door as Hannibal made his way back down the hall, surprised that Jack seemed to have come to terms with his relationship with Will. _Perhaps, others will react the same when they discover what he means to me._ His heart warmed at the thought. _We shall soon find out._

Hannibal let himself into his office, only to find Will sitting in his leather armchair, their things gathered around him. Smiling tiredly as Hannibal approached, he stood.

“Did you clear it with Jack? Can we go now?” Hannibal nodded, pulling on his overcoat as Will did the same. They picked up their briefcases and left Hannibal’s office. Hannibal checked that the door was firmly locked before turning to smile at his companion. Will looked tired, but marginally better than he had in the last few hours.

“Do you have everything you require from your office for the weekend?” Will nodded, and the two set off down the hall, making their way towards the freedom of the parking garage.

***

They were almost to the car when they heard her voice. Hannibal’s hair rose on the back of his neck as he cursed himself. _I should have known she wouldn’t take Jack’s dismissal laying down._

“Look at you two. Rushing off for a romantic weekend? How’s your head, Will?” Freddie’s smile was dangerous as she slunk closer. Will tensed, but he kept walking, choosing to carefully ignore the viper at his heels. “Not going to answer me, darling?” She picked up her pace, pulling something from beneath her coat. As he reached the car, she tossed it at him. 

“Care to tell me why the hell you sent me this then?” Frowning, he picked up the plastic bag she had thrown at him. After examining its contents, he passed the bag to Hannibal, staring at her in confusion.

“Why would I send you flowers, Freddie?” She laughed without humor, holding her hand out for the bag as Hannibal examined its contents. The chrysanthemum the bag contained had been crushed slightly, but he could make out the words on the card through its remnants. He smothered his smile as he handed the bag back to her. She tucked it beneath her jacket, eyes searching Will’s face, disbelief etched into her features.

“You mean to stand there and tell me that you didn’t send them to me?” Will nodded. 

“That’s exactly what I mean to tell you. And my head’s fine, thanks for your concern. We really have to get going, though. Have a great weekend.” With that, he let himself into the car, closing the door and effectively cutting off her retort. She rounded on Hannibal, her anger and fear burning along his skin as he faced her.

“What do you make of the card then?” Hannibal laughed and moved away to the driver’s side of the car. 

“I will not be of any help to you, Miss Lounds. You have already proven yourself to be unspeakably discourteous.” He paused and regarded her over the roof of his car. “Perhaps,” he said thoughtfully, “You should heed the warning, though. It wouldn’t do to continue down the path you’ve chosen with Will, especially if you’ve already begun to receive threats. Enjoy your evening.” He climbed into the car and shut the door, starting the engine as soon as he was behind the wheel. She watched them pull out of the garage, the words from the card flashing through her mind. _If it’s not Will, who could it be? No… it has to be him. And I will find proof._

Turning on her heel, she set off back towards the exit to the garage.

***

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can help you with?” Will set his briefcase down just inside the door, tired to the bone but unwilling to leave Hannibal to take care of their evening himself. Hannibal smiled as he helped Will out of his overcoat before bending down to untie the profiler’s shoes. He eased them off, pulling his socks with them and setting them by their place at the door. The sight of Will’s things mingled with his own warmed his blood. _Each object in its place._ He untied his own shoes and eased them off, slipping them next to the profiler’s before standing to take his hand.

“It’s not always about requiring assistance, Will. It’s been a long day for both of us and I’d like to begin putting it behind us.” He pulled Will to the bedroom, managing to make it all the way inside before claiming his mouth in a gentle but insistent kiss. Will moaned quietly, winding his hands into the doctor’s hair as their lips sealed, stealing the breath from his lungs. Hannibal backed him up to the bed and followed him down, refusing to relinquish his mouth. They ended up in a passionate pile of tangled limbs, one of Hannibal’s legs firmly planted between Will’s own as they ground together, still fully clothed. Will wrenched his mouth away, gasping as Hannibal began working the buttons of his shirt apart just enough to taste the creamy expanse of his neck. He moaned weakly as his flesh was tasted, adored. Hannibal took it slow, working his mouth over the delightfully sensitive areas he had discovered in their nights together, kissing up Will’s neck until he reached his ears. He traced his tongue lightly along the outer shell before bringing Will’s lobe into his mouth in a sharp nip. Will’s back went taut, his body breaking out in goosebumps as he reveled in Hannibal’s expert touch. Hannibal smiled against his neck before once again reaching his ear, whispering to him as Will’s hands wrapped weakly around his back.

“I would like to shower with you, darling. Rub your back beneath the water. Take care of you with my mouth. I want to taste you tonight, relax you. When I have sated and exhausted you, I’d very much like you to rest. I will attend to your dogs and procure us some dinner in town. And when I return we can dine, perhaps talk if you are feeling up to it. If not, I’d like to take you back to bed, wrap you in my arms and sleep next to you. Let the day melt away and prepare for another wonderful weekend with you at my side.” Will buried his face in the doctor’s chest, but he could feel him nodding.

“I want that. Very much. I want you. I’ve missed your skin today, your mouth and your hands. I missed your gaze. I’m so tired, but I want intimacy before I sleep.” He gazed sleepily at the man in his arms, quietly amazed. “What did I do to deserve you, Hannibal?” The man in question smiled gently, tangling their fingers together as he kissed the beautiful mouth offered to him.

“You are my match, Will Graham. My ideal. It is as simple as that. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” He rolled off the bed and held out his hand. Will took it, allowing himself to be pulled from the comfort of the covers. He didn’t try to help as Hannibal undressed him, shedding his clothes in a path to the shower. Will attended to the water, adjusting the temperature as Hannibal shed his own clothing. They met under the torrents of hot water, the craving for one another barely contained as their lips sealed. Will gasped as their cocks rubbed together deliciously, eased by the water on their skin. His teeth dug into his lower lip as Hannibal dispensed body wash into his hands, lathering it before gathering their cocks together. The tight, hot grip was almost too much and Will had to grit his teeth to keep from coming immediately. Hannibal smiled against his neck and worked the lather over his lover’s skin, soaping his chest and groin until they slid smoothly together. He very deliberately turned Will to face the wall, reaching for his hands and bracing them against the tiles before dispensing more soap into his hands. He kissed the side of his neck as he began spreading the lather down Will’s back, massaging gently as he worked slowly over his muscles. Will began to relax into the familiar touch, the cold porcelain a wonderful reprieve on his sensitive skin. His eyes flew open as Hannibal coaxed his thighs apart with slippery hands, his firm grip on the globes of his ass. He moaned weakly as Hannibal’s fingers skimmed between his cheeks, spreading him, enjoying the emotions that chased through the muscles in his back. He felt Hannibal’s hot breath in his ear as he leaned over him, cradling his body against his own.

“I want to touch you. Just feel you there. Are you okay with me doing so?” Will nodded, excitement and trepidation knotting in his shoulders as Hannibal hummed low in his throat, pleased. “I will not enter you, Will. Our first time will not be in the shower when you are too exhausted to enjoy it thoroughly. But I want you to relax for me and feel. You are utterly safe in my hands. I will not hurt you.” Hannibal stepped into his instep, widening his stance as he slid his hands down once again. Will tensed as he brushed against the tight knot of muscle of his entrance, his fingers gentle and exploratory. As the clever fingers began to swirl against his sensitive flesh, he moaned, arching his hips back against the other man’s erection, a careful plead for more contact. Hannibal turned him carefully around, his eyes huge and dark in the dim light of the bathroom. They kissed as Hannibal rounded his hands against his backside and squeezed. Will had never expected to want someone in the way he wanted Hannibal. He wanted to be taken, claimed, explored. He wanted this pleasure, new and exciting and terrifying. Long minutes of teasing later, Hannibal finally shut the water off as they kissed, reaching blindly for a towel. He dried Will off carefully, draping the towel over the bar when he was finished. Taking his hand, he lead Will to the bed, laying him down with the greatest of care. He leaned up, regarding the profiler with gentle eyes.

“I would very much like to taste you tonight, Will. I can continue my explorations while I do, if you would like. I would like to feel your body open to me as I pleasure you.” Will nodded, his heart in his throat as Hannibal reached to the bedside table for the lubricant they left out that morning. He slipped his lips over the swollen crown of Will’s cock, offering him his gaze as he swept away the slick emission with his tongue. Carefully opening the bottle, he slicked two fingers before tossing it onto the bed. “I will not enter you,” he murmured against the sensitive flesh at his lips. Will trembled, so close to begging that it hurt his throat. “I will explore as I did before, but you needn’t worry about an intrusion into your body.” Will nodded as Hannibal lowered his lips back to his cock, tasting him as he spread Will’s thighs. The suction on his length was perfect; Hannibal had gotten so good at pleasuring him like this, it was difficult for him to believe they hadn’t been together for years. When he felt the first gentle touches at his opening, barely brushing, it took everything in him to keep from rocking his hips to take the fingers into his body. Hannibal worked his mouth further along his sensitive flesh as he swirled a single digit against the knot of muscle. Will unconsciously spread his thighs further, rocking his hips gently in rhythm with Hannibal’s mouth. The single digit turned to two, teasing and stroking as he felt his orgasm rush towards him like a freight train. His breath hitched in his throat as Hannibal sunk down onto his length, taking him into his throat. Will rocked his hips down and the barest tip of a finger breached his opening. He came with a shout, his climax so strong it tore delighted gasps and cries from his throat. He trembled as Hannibal worked him gently through it, leaving the bare edge of his finger inside him. As the white hot pleasure ebbed, Hannibal released him gently, kissing his stomach as he eased up the bed.

“Holy fuck, Hannibal.” The doctor laughed and gathered Will into his arms, pulling the blanket around them. He kissed the profiler’s temple as they rested together, running his fingers through the wild curls that he adored.

“Was that okay, darling?” Will laughed, his voice hoarse in the quiet hush of the room. He turned in Hannibal’s arms and kissed him thoroughly, enjoying his taste on the doctor’s tongue.

“That was far more than okay, and you know it. I don’t know how I’m going to survive intercourse with you when you can melt my bones with the intimacy we already have.” Hannibal laughed, delighted.

“I would give you pleasure every hour of every day, Will. Just to see you look at me with amazement, just as you are now.” He kissed Will’s lips gently before easing out of the bed. Will watched with the sleepy satisfaction of a cat with cream as his lover dressed in comfortable grey pants and a black pullover. Hannibal sat on the edge of the bed, pulling the covers around him. “I shall return shortly with a decent meal. I am going to feed your dogs as well, and ensure they have water. Alana will check on them in the morning.”

Will nodded and yawned, his eyes slipping closed as he felt the bed shift as Hannibal stood. “Don’t be gone too long. I’ll be lonely without you.” Hannibal suppressed a small smile as he ran a hand through Will’s hair.

“I won’t be long. Regain your strength, love. I will be with you again shortly.” He moved quietly towards the door, turning back to gaze in fond amazement at the man in his bed. Will lifted his face, meeting his eyes. Raw adoration was etched into his features, coupled with the deep satisfaction that good sex brought. Their eyes met, and a shock ran through Hannibal’s being, a realization of what was happening between them. _This… this is more than a simple comfort of another being. This is love_. Suppressing his emotions to the best of his ability, he smiled at the man in his bed as if his world had not just imploded.

“Sleep well, sweet. I shall see you soon.” He walked swiftly down the hall, trying desperately to quell the thump of his heart, calling with every fiber in his being to be with Will in this moment. Gathering his jacket and keys, he made his way outside to his car, turning the engine. He navigated down the drive and towards Will’s home, trying and failing to suppress the sheer emotion welling up within him. _It’s too soon, but it is everything. I cannot harm that which I love._

***

Freddie Lounds made her way around the back of the darkened house, looking for a spare key to let herself in. Will was a cautious man, but everyone had a fake plant or rock in which they hid- success! Her fingers curled around the metal key beneath a potted plant as she crossed to the front door and unlocked it. The dogs caught her by surprise, milling around her in a sea of fur as she closed the door behind her. She left the lights off, using her phone to navigate the darkened room as she explored. _I’ll find what I need. I know it was you._ She perused his magazine collection, noting the fishing and hunting subscriptions he received, before moving to the stairs. As she took her first step, a noise behind her made her pause. Before she could move to defend herself, a strong hand covered her mouth, securing her jaw so she couldn’t bite.

“Good evening, Miss Lounds. It seems you didn’t heed my warning. How… unfortunate.” As Freddy thrashed, Hannibal brought the metal baton down on the back of her head, easing the strength of his hit fractionally to ensure he didn’t give her a concussion. They needed to have a long conversation, and he wanted her sentient so she could elucidate how truly sorry she was. He bound and gagged the unconscious woman and took her out to his trunk, setting her gently inside. He would have to use the outside entrance to the basement when he got home, but it would prove to be relatively simple to keep her presence unknown to Will. The basement was, of course, soundproofed. Brushing the hair from her face, he checked her pulse. It was beating strong and sure. Nodding to himself, satisfied, he closed the trunk and walked back to the house to feed the dogs, whistling quietly in the darkness.

_I tried to warn you Miss Lounds. Monsters beware. Here be dragons._


	10. Paper Faces

_You were a risk,_   
_A mystery,_   
_And the most_   
_Certain thing I’d ever known._   
_-Beau Taplin_

* * *

The golden light that filtered through the windows painted the room in Autumn shades, rousing Hannibal from his half slumber. Saturday had slipped by in the quiet contentment that can only come from a desperate need to recharge. Hannibal let Will sleep in, tending to their guest with the utmost caution, ensuring she was as comfortable as he would allow. Will had woken, bleary eyed and more relaxed than Hannibal could possibly have hoped, given the trauma he had experienced the day before. They had made a late breakfast together, standing in the kitchen with gentle smiles and little conversation. They naturally gravitated towards one another, sitting at the counter while they ate, shy brushes of skin passed between them like whispered promises. _You are comforting. I want to be with you, here._ Hannibal refused to let Will work on compiling his notes. Instead they hiked on the path he used for his runs in the early morning hours, traversing the green expanse of woods by Hannibal’s home, the conversation light and relaxed. Will had been delighted to find the spots where Hannibal had taken the pictures he had sent, often stopping to examine the spaces at length before smiling and moving on. 

When they returned, Will still looked weary, the shadows beneath his eyes betraying an exhaustion he refused to voice. Hannibal had pulled him back to bed, barely clothed, to share the warmth of their skin beneath the sheets. It had taken less than ten minutes of gentle stroking through the delight of Will’s curls before he fell into a deep sleep. Will’s hair now tickled the side of Hannibal’s neck as they rested, spooning in the late afternoon light. Hannibal’s hands traced the curves of Will’s muscles, not massaging but simply feeling, committing the shape of his body to memory. Will’s deep breaths confirmed he was still fast asleep, content and comfortable in Hannibal’s embrace, unaware that the man behind him was watching him with unadulterated adoration. Hannibal’s heart beat in the same rhythm as that of the man wrapped in his arms, and in the hushed quiet and safety of their bed, he contemplated the meaning of being in love with another as he mapped his lover’s skin. His mind tried to race with the possible drawbacks that could come with caring so deeply for another, but all it took was pressing his nose to the nape of Will’s neck to silence the whirring thoughts. They dimmed to a white fuzz at the back of his mind; the only thing of any concern was now the scent that flooded his being and made his heart race with longing. _Will. I would give anything for you to be mine. Truly and wholly mine._

The masquerade was not scheduled to begin until 8, and Hannibal had every intention of showing up a little late so they could make an entrance. The beguiling sight of Will’s mask would be accented by his own choice, and he wanted them to be seen for what they were; powerful, unstoppable, _together_. A couple that could be a force of nature, whose methods and personalities were so suited for one another that everyone within the Bureau sought their advice and attention. Hannibal had no doubts that if Will allowed himself to be what he was meant to be, he would become a powerhouse within his organization, a man so in tune with himself within the world and a mind so keenly honed that his expertise would be taken as the final word on anything in which he was consulted. With Hannibal’s help, gone would be his fragility, and in it’s place would rise up the glory of Will’s becoming. He knew it was possible, but it would come in time. _One step at time._

Will stirred in his arms, a quiet moan emitting from low and deep in his throat. The very sound tightened Hannibal’s stomach and made the skin of his fingertips and lips tingle. His touches had served to be headily arousing. He wanted Will’s cries of passion more than he wanted to breathe, but he refused to disturb the sleep the profiler so obviously needed. In his explorations, he had discovered Will’s kindling erection, and had let his fingers glide over the warm, hard flesh as he traced his skin. _It’s only fair. I cannot leave any of his delectable body untouched._ With Will now awakening, he let the touches between his legs linger, stroking the flesh of his shaft, his inner thighs, his balls, all part of the gentle circuit that mapped his skin with love and longing. The sounds Will began to make were heady, tight moans as he rocked his hips into Hannibal’s hands each time his circuit took him lower. The strokes along his spine were causing his back to bow with the touch, a delightful arch that reminded Hannibal of a cat stretching after a long nap. The movement brought Will’s ass snug against Hannibal’s own erection, and although he tried to keep his desires at bay, it wasn’t long before Will was coherent enough to rock back purposefully against him. The movement caught Hannibal’s heart in his throat as he attempted to rein in his own reactions, wanting Will’s pleasure first. Gripping his hips, Hannibal brought his lips down along Will’s neck, drawing his attention away from his rocking hips. Will chuckled, the sound low and rough with sleep.

“You know our pleasure is not mutually exclusive, right?” he said, loosening Hannibal’s grip on his hipbone. Turning in the doctor’s arms, he pressed a gentle kiss to Hannibal’s parted lips as his hand came up, winding it’s way into his hair. Hannibal couldn’t repress the groan in his throat nor the insistent rocking of his hips, a desperate plead for pleasure, friction. He had spent so much time mapping Will’s skin that the need for release was an ache across his limbs, a tightening of his entire being. Will gazed into the softly swollen maroon and gold of Hannibal’s eyes as his hand traced along his skin, following much the same pattern as the doctor’s had traced along his own skin as he slept. When he reached the hard, hot length of his cock he paused fractionally before tracing his fingers around the sensitive flesh. The high, breathy noise that escaped between those beautifully parted lips seared itself into Will’s soul and he immediately wanted more. The power of Hannibal’s reactions were so headily arousing that it was almost impossible not to draw the experience out, but Will could taste the doctor’s need on his tongue like a fine ambrosia. Although Hannibal was still wearing his boxers, Will could feel every thick and rigid inch as if he were naked. _That is what I want. I want to feel you._ Nipping his earlobe, he traced the delicate skin as he listened to the doctor’s breath hitch with need. “Can I take these off you? Please. I want to feel you.” Hannibal nodded, swallowing as he tried to slow the wild beating of his heart. Will pulled the material down and used his foot to kick them off his legs before reaching for his own. Their cocks pressed together, gently nesting as if they slept like this every day.

“Will-” Will’s lips caught Hannibal’s mouth mid plea, and as they kissed, he gently rocked his hips. The sensation skittered down Hannibal’s spine as it bowed, too good but not enough. Will was already reaching for the lubricant on the nightstand, and Hannibal’s heart beat hard as he heard the lid unsnap, the sound loud in the hushed quiet. He poured a generous amount into his palm before wrapping their erections together, a tight hot sleeve that felt good to rock into, to fuck. Will’s hand came down on Hannibal’s hip hard, willing him to keep still as he ran the sleeve of his hand from root to tip, massaging them in unison. Their moans mingled in the space between their lips as their mouths came apart, and they watched each other’s faces with mixed arousal and desperation painted across their features. Will set an insistent but almost too slow pace, working their erections through his hand as he watched Hannibal’s features tighten with need. He could see the doctor wanted to chase, to grip, to take, but he held as still as he could manage. The tight sounds escaping his throat were heaven. Will carefully disengaged his hands from around them both, taking Hannibal’s erection alone in his grip. Leaning down, he brought their mouths together in a gentle, exploratory kiss as he worked Hannibal’s length through his hand. 

When the doctor’s muscles began to shake, he slowed, calculating. The moment was all it took for Hannibal to hook his leg over Will’s calf and roll them until Will was beneath him. His eyes widened and abruptly shuttered as Hannibal buried his face against his neck and rocked his hips down, grinding their erections together in a slow, sensuous circle.

“Oh god-” Hannibal’s lips found his ear, his breath hot against his skin.

“You feel so good, Will. Do you have any idea how exquisite you look like this? Beneath me, debauched, panting for more. I want to feel you, darling. I want you to come for me.” Will nodded frantically, lost in the delicious sound of Hannibal’s low voice in his ear as it instructed him. He could feel his orgasm rushing towards him like a tidal wave and he longed to be swept away in the feeling. His breath hitched as color bloomed across his skin, raising high in his cheeks as he panted.

“You… you too. I want to feel you too. Together.” Hannibal’s mouth crashed into his own and he felt the doctor nod as his hips rocked in rhythm. _This feels like sex. God I want it. I want you inside me._ Hannibal chuckled darkly and Will realized he had spoken aloud.

“I know, my love. I know. But we should save such a momentous event for a time when we do not have anywhere to be, so I can take care of you should you need it. For now, let me hear you. Let it come, and let me hear you.” Will’s body bowed off the bed as his orgasm crashed into him, flooding his system in waves of pure white light. He barely heard Hannibal’s soft moans, even as the wetness against their skin spread. Lost in the sensation of his own release he panted, calling out broken versions of Hannibal’s name, tender words lost to the waves of pure pleasure riding his skin. It wasn’t until their movements eased that he heard the whispers in his ear, low and melodic. He couldn’t catch the words and it took focus to realize that they were not in English. He turned his head and caught Hannibal’s gaze, and the emotion that welled up in the doctor’s eyes was enough to send another wave of pleasure through his system like a second orgasm. Their breathing slowed as their lips met, a gentle press of lips that ebbed and flowed as they breathed. Hannibal rested his forehead against Will’s as their limbs relaxed in post orgasmic bliss. 

Long moments later, Hannibal stirred and stretched, smiling down as he pulled the covers off. He held out his hand for Will to join him as they made their way to the bathroom to begin the ritual of preparing for the masquerade.

***

“What were you whispering to me? Before, I mean. It didn’t sound like English.” Hannibal’s hand stilled in Will’s hair as he worked shampoo into his curls, the movements relaxing as the orange and tea tree scent wafted around them. Will watched several emotions flit across his face before it cleared, presenting a mask of blank, calculated confusion.

“I am not sure I know what you mean. Whispered to you when?” Will laughed and tipped his head back to rinse, aided by Hannibal’s clever hands.

“I know that look, Hannibal. If you don’t want to tell me, that’s perfectly okay… for now. I’m curious, but not enough to push the issue.” Hannibal visibly relaxed as he opened the conditioner, working a generous amount into Will’s hair. 

“I would rather not say just now, if it’s all the same. Perhaps it’s a discussion we can have this evening when we return.” Will’s eyes gleamed as he reached for the shampoo bottle. 

“I’m not in any hurry. When you’re ready, I know you’ll share with me.” Hannibal nodded and closed his eyes as Will’s fingers made their way into his hair. The breathy sigh he released caught Will’s heart. _He doesn’t allow himself vulnerability. But he lets me see glimpses between the careful construction of his armor._

They tended to one another, ensuring both were clean and relaxed before the water was turned off. Will stepped from the shower, a nervous anticipation easing its way into his stomach. Hannibal scrubbed his hair dry before stepping from the room and into the closet. He watched the other man disappear from the bathroom, wondering if every couple had moments where they were so affected by watching the retreat of their partner. When he stepped from the room to dress, he found two boxes on the bed; one containing his mask and the other containing Hannibal’s. He grinned and glanced around, but Hannibal was nowhere to be seen. The doctor had been uncharacteristically enigmatic about the mask he would be wearing, and no amount of wheedling, bargaining, or bribery had been enough to get him to so much as hint as to the nature of his choice. The last time Will had asked, he had smiled, running a hand through Will’s hair. 

“You shall know soon enough, won’t you? Know that my choice reflects yours, and we will be very much matched.” Will had let it go with a sigh, knowing there was no arguing his logic. Now was his chance to see the mask at last, but he was hesitant to lift the lid. _I don’t want to spoil the surprise, he realized._ Sighing, he left the boxes as they were and reached for his suit bag. After much contemplation, and many try-ons, Hannibal had decided that he should wear the deep grey. Paired with a pale grey shirt and black and silver tie, the colors seemed a perfect match for the mask he would be donning. The tailored cloth hugged his body as if it loved him, fitted without an inch to spare. _Julian really knows what he’s doing._ The suit itself felt amazing, and Will found himself grateful once again for Hannibal’s expertise. 

As he was pulling on his vest, two hands wound their way under his arms, reaching fondly for the buttons. Smiling, he relinquished the task to Hannibal, watching in the mirror as his hands slowly finished before turning him around, inspecting his work.

“You look stunning already, Will. It will be quite a treat to see you dressed in this suit all evening.” The doctor was also partially dressed; his slacks were the deepest black and hugged his slim hips enticingly. The shirt he chose was also pure black, the unbroken color enhancing the silver in his hair and gold of his eyes, making line of his jaw and his cheekbones stand out in sharp relief from his features. The effect softened his lips, making them appear softer and more sensual in comparison. Will took the tie slung over Hannibal’s shoulder and looped it over his neck, adjusting the ends so it could be tied.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” he said, keeping his eyes on his task. He could feel Hannibal’s grin without meeting his eyes, and when the doctor reached for his face, he met his mouth willingly, tasting his smile in the kiss. Adjusting the tie so it lay smooth and straight against Hannibal’s chest, he reached for his own, only to have it gently removed from his fingers. Hannibal cupped his face and tilted until their lips once again met as he backed Will into the closest wall, pressing their bodies together as he deepened the kiss. His fingers raked gently through Will’s curls as he tasted the other man’s mouth, relishing in the moan that escaped as he tugged gently at his hair. Their kisses gentled as Will panted, his eyes lost. When Hannibal finally released him, he stayed where he was, dazed and more than a little aroused. Hannibal relinquished his hold, only to find himself drug back against Will’s frame by his tie.

“If you keep kissing me like that, we aren’t leaving the bedroom tonight, Hannibal,” Will growled into his ear. Hannibal shivered, his eyes falling closed as he listened. “Considering all the trouble you’ve gone to in order to ensure I’d be there tonight, I think it would be best not to waste your efforts.” Hannibal laughed and retrieved Will’s tie where it had fallen on the ground. Will took it from him with a wry smile, much more relaxed than he expected to be. _It’s almost as if he knows, and does it on purpose._ The gleam in Hannibal’s eye was enough of an answer for him.

***

“Why am I nervous?” Hannibal glanced over at his companion as he adjusted his tie again, running a hand through his curls. Reaching over he took his hand, kissing his fingers as he navigated his car to the front of the hotel. 

“Because you hate large social gatherings, and you don’t particularly want to be at this one.” Will opened his mouth to protest, then closed it, resigned.

“You’re right,” he said quietly. “You’re always right. Do you hate it that I’m not into going to parties like this?” Hannibal shook his head, reaching behind them for the boxes containing their masks before responding.

“I do not mind. As it happens, I prefer your company to everyone in the rooms above us. Although I am not adverse to company, and lord knows I’ve spent my time attending such functions while in the company of high society, I find your comfort my highest priority this evening.” He handed Will his box, gesturing for him to open it. “Do you remember what I told you when we first discussed you attending this party?” Will nodded thoughtfully as he removed the wolf’s mask and donned it, adjusting the ties until it sat snugly to his face. Turning to Hannibal so he could inspect the effect, Hannibal’s breath caught. _There you are._

“You said I should not go as myself, but go as someone who might enjoy such events. I don’t know if I can disassociate from myself enough to think of it that way though.” Hannibal smiled, pleased.

“You remember the basics, but you are forgetting an important part. While in a mask, you can be whomever you choose to be. Oscar Wilde once said ‘man is least himself when he talks in his own. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.’ Let the experience give you the chance to be who you are, not who everyone at the Bureau assumes you to be. Say what you want. Do what you want. It should be freeing, not constricting. Do you understand?” Will nodded thoughtfully.

“I’ll see what I can do.” He hesitated as Hannibal reached back for his own box. Hannibal lifted the lid and Will’s eyes widened at the mask that lay within before grinning madly. “I can see why you waited. I can’t wait to see what everyone thinks of that mask.” Careful not to snag the antlers, Hannibal lifted the ornate black and silver stag’s mask from the box, inspecting it once more before stepping from the car. The horns were large and gleamed darkly against the elaborate black skull on which they rested. The skull itself was made of black tooled leather and accented in fine silver filigree, just enough to highlight the curves and divots in the skull itself. The horns appeared to be made of actual antler, sections wrapped in dark leather to make them appear more refined. The over all effect of the mask was darkly decadent and a little primal, and Will was suddenly thankful that Hannibal had made him wait. _Had I known, I would have spent far less time resisting your invitation._ His cheeks flared with bright color as Hannibal stepped from the car, handing his keys over to the valet. Will watched as he expertly donned the mask, tying it tightly to his face. The mask curved itself to his cheeks and surrounded his eyes, setting off the bright golden maroon color that shone through the mask’s eye holes. His mouth didn’t look out of place where it curved below the edges of the leather, a hint of a smile ruining the overall fearsome figure Hannibal made. 

“Do you like my choice, Will?” The Wolf nodded, taking in the visage of the Stag before him. 

“I like it very much. Is this a new mask to you, or something you’ve worn before?”

“I had my mask already on order before I convinced you to go. I was quite surprised when yours paired so well with mine.” Will’s eyes gleamed as he grinned.

“Almost as if your friend knew we would be attending together.” Hannibal offered him a small smile as he took his hand and lead him up the main steps of the brick facade of the Sagmore Pendry’s entrance. From his jacket, he removed their invitations and handed them to the smiling check girl waiting for them. She checked in their names on her list before handing them back with an awed smile.

“I had hope, darling. More hope than I dare admit. Shall we?” He gestured with an arm to the interior of the hotel, and they swept inside with the throng of waiting attendees, making their way down the hall to the ballroom.

***

“This place is incredible. I can’t believe how much trouble they’ve gone to in the decor for this party.” Will’s eyes drank in their fill of their surroundings as Hannibal navigated them to the line to get a drink. The tall, arched windows had been set with sheer black drapes, ornately decorated bats hanging down from the tops as if caught in mid-flight. While it should have looked garish, there was enough glitter on the gently lit decorations to make them appear elegant. Large chandeliers made of black glass had been brought in and lit with actual candles, giving the entire room a warm, surreal glow. Someone had taken a page out of The Mask of Red Death, and several of the smaller rooms were set with candelabras illuminated through varying shades of glass, bathing each room in a different aesthetic of light. Will had glimpsed each as they made their way through the hall, his eyes rounding at the attention to detail in each of the rooms. Set throughout the main room were banquet tables containing finger foods, and in keeping with the festive theme, they were all cut or designed for the spooky season. Will had seen someone munching on pretzel in the shape of a witch’s finger, while others chose to dine on pâté out of a mold shaped like a brain. Hannibal’s delighted eyes had taken in the foods offered, each making him happier than the last. Will gazed at him fondly, pleased at his obvious happiness in the culinary options. 

Will took in the other revelers as they waited in line. Some costumes were more because they had to dress up rather than taking enjoyment from it. Others were so ornate, it was hard to believe they were still in the 21st century. Everywhere he looked he saw fluffy hooped skirts and tall wigs amongst sleeker evening gowns and suits. The masks everyone donned were incredible. He saw cats and birds on some, where others had chosen characters from the stages in which the original Venetian masks had come from. The kaleidoscopic effect of color was dazzlingly wondrous. Leaning into Hannibal’s side as he placed their drink orders, he felt the doctor’s hand curve around his hip, drawing him closer. Closing his eyes briefly in contentment, Will had never been so glad to attend a party as he was in that moment. As they turned from the bar, drinks in hand, a light crisp voice drew their attention.

“Will? Is that really you?” Alana moved forward to hug the profiler, her red and gold dress whispering along the marble tiles as she embraced him. Will smiled and nodded, returning the hug gently before releasing her to admire her costume. 

“You look amazing, Alana. Queen of Hearts suits you very well.” Alana blushed and curtsied as she raised the handle of the mask she carried, holding it to her face so they could see the full effect. Hannibal moved forward to hug her as well, and as they stepped back, she regarded the two men before her fondly. Alana couldn’t quite believe the changes that had come over Will in the few short weeks since being introduced to the man at his side. Gone was the nervous man so far in his shell, he jumped when others spoke to him. Instead stood a man more comfortable in his skin than she had ever met. The suit he wore accented his physique and features, and the mask looked as if had been custom made. She noted the small touches they shared, intimacies that would have gone unnoticed to anyone with an untrained eye. _They’ve become a couple._ She was more surprised at how unsurprising the change in their relationship was. Physically, the two men made a stunning pair; Hannibal tall and exotic, darkly handsome in the intricate stag’s mask he had donned. Will’s suit and mask complimented the choice, and the power they exuded as a couple was breathtaking.

“I’m so happy you decided to join us this evening, Will. Your choices are incredible. And,” she said, leaning in so only they could hear her, “you two make a very handsome couple.” Will’s heart pounded in his chest, his eyes shining as he leaned into Hannibal’s side, comfortable and happy. Eyeing Alana as she surveyed the pair, he grinned sheepishly.

“Was it that obvious?” She smiled and touched his cheek.

“Only to someone with eyes, dear. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you more at peace than you are right now.” Fixing Hannibal with a playfully stern eye, she regarded him through the eyes of her mask. “Please take care of him, Hannibal. He has no idea how truly special he is, and he deserves to be told every day.” Hannibal smiled and inclined his head.

“I would do nothing less, Alana.” She nodded and moved away, leaving them to sip their drinks and survey the crowd. Will glanced up at Hannibal, his eyes darkly delighted.

“Alana assumes we’ve already had that conversation.” Hannibal snorted and took a sip of wine as he watched the band set up. _They opted for a quartet. How quaint._

“Alana wants to see you happy, Will. She’s spoken to me in our own sessions, many times. She believes that Jack pushes you too hard. She wants only the best for you, as do I.” Will nodded thoughtfully, watching the crowd.

“And are you what’s best for me, Hannibal?” Their eyes met as Will watched Hannibal’s lips curve enticingly below his mask.

“I would like to think so. Is this a conversation you’d be keen on having at this time, or shall we wait until we retire for the evening?” Will deliberated, taking a small sip of his drink. He watched Hannibal’s careful eyes, relishing in the knowledge of what the doctor was telling him without words. _You are mine_ his glance said. _I have not spoken the words, but you are mine._

“Perhaps I’ll relish in the unspoken knowledge now, and we can enjoy a lengthy discussion this evening once we make it h-” his voice stuttered. _I almost said home_. Grinning sheepishly, he continued. “I mean. Back to your place.” Hannibal grinned, fully aware of what Will had almost said.

“As you wish. As long as you are aware of the answer, should anyone else ask. And,” he said, his voice dark as he ran his fingers along Will’s tie, “as long as you remember that this is very much a conversation we will be having this evening. Are we agreed?”

Will’s eyes rounded as he nodded, his heart pounding in his throat. “Okay.” Hannibal smiled and smoothed the tie down, petting Will’s chest as he did so.

“Excellent, darling. Then try not to look so affected. Jack is on his way over here with his wife and it wouldn’t do for you to have an erection while we are being introduced.” Will smothered his laughter as they turned to greet their company.

***

“That was the most fun I think I’ve ever had at a work function.” Hannibal eyed his partner with some amusement as they waited for the valet to retrieve his car. The masquerade had been a smashing success. With the weight of their discussion unspoken between them, Will had been delightfully charming, greeting, conversing everyone who came to speak to them. Jack and his wife had been charmed by their conversation and their flirting, and everyone had been genuinely happy in the developments between them, none of them aware that it was as of yet unofficial. Beverly Katz and Brian Zeller had begun a hushed betting pool on how long it would be until a proposal, much to Hannibal’s amusement. _If they only knew._ Will, who had been discussing the Blood Drinker’s conclusion with Alana and Jack, had been none the wiser but he had seen both of them discreetly pass money to Beverly at separate points in the evening.

The most surprising part of the night had been Will’s open affection for his date. They talked to their colleagues and flirted with one another and he had even taken to the dance floor, blushing furiously, for the first waltz of the evening. Hannibal had whispered in his ear, reminding to relax and let him lead, and they had surprised everyone with their breathtaking chemistry and synchronization while dancing. The other couples who had tentatively taken to the floor quickly made themselves scarce to watch the two men dance. Hannibal himself had been surprised that Will was able to keep up with his steps, and had ended their apparent performance by dipping Will low and kissing the life out of him to the cheers of everyone present. Will had blushed furiously, much to Hannibal’s delight, and although there had been many requests for an encore, Hannibal had politely declined, advising it was a one time only performance.

As the night wore down, it had been Beverly who had given them the opportunity to clear out before the main crowd dispersed. Will had been courteous all night, but Hannibal could sense the end of his patience for mingling, so he had thanked Beverly with a wink, whispering into her ear a better estimation than what she had bet. Her eyes widened and she quickly changed her numbers, ensuring nobody watched as she did so. 

Hannibal’s hand played along Will’s back as the car came into view, and he opened the passenger side door to admit the profiler before slipping behind the wheel. Will untied his mask, smiling as he fingered the tooling in the leather. Hannibal’s had been relegated to the back seat, as it was simply too tall to drive in.

“These should be displayed somewhere, with some kind of plaque. The night you got me to come out of my shell.” Hannibal wound their fingers together, a small smile playing on his lips.

“That can be arranged, but the right catalyst is all that was necessary. You were magnificent tonight. May I ask where you learned to waltz?” Will blushed, watching Hannibal’s thumb trace his skin.

“In college, if you can believe that. I had a good friend in a sorority. They threw traditional balls once a year, and she brought me as a date so she could avoid the typical train of guys asking for a dance or more. She taught me.” He glanced wryly at Hannibal’s profile. “She also lead, only because I was so terrible at it. She never kissed me in the middle of a dance floor in front of hundreds of people, though.” Hannibal laughed.

“Remiss of her.” Will hummed, eyes watching the road, lost in thought.

“Thank you for tonight, Hannibal. I don’t think I’ve expressed my gratitude to how you have helped me nearly enough. I’ve been… different since I’ve met you.” Hannibal glanced at Will’s face, waiting for him to continue. “I know everyone jokes about what a mess I was before you, but they’re only making light of it because of how true it was,” he said softly. “You’ve helped me become… more than what I was. More myself, I guess. Or just more in control of who I am.” Hannibal’s fingers squeezed Will’s hand gently as he turned onto his drive.

“I do not believe that to be true. I believe you’ve always been who you are. It’s who you will be that interests me greatly.” He parked the car and reached back behind the seat, collecting his mask so it could be stored. He glanced at Will, who was watching him carefully, his eyes unsure. Taking his hand, he kissed it gently before opening the car door. “I believe we are due a conversation about that. Shall we?” Will nodded and opened his door. Together, they made their way up the walk.

***

“Would you like a drink?” Will nodded absentmindedly, removing his shoes and tie before unbuttoning his vest. Hannibal moved to the kitchen to make their glasses as Will wound his way to Hannibal’s office, starting the fire before taking up his customary seat. Pulling out the ottoman next to his chair, he propped his feet up and sunk low, trying to quell the beating of his heart which seemed to want to leap out of his chest. _Why am I so nervous? I already know where this conversation is going_. He couldn’t shake the feeling that some monumental shift was about to occur, and so when Hannibal approached, offering him a tumbler filled with two fingers of whiskey, he was not surprised to find that his hands were trembling. Hannibal sat down and regarded the fire before turning to his companion.

“Are you nervous?” Will nodded, trying not to toss back the liquor in his glass. Instead, he took a small sip, letting it burn its way down his throat. Hannibal watched him, eyes gentle. “May I ask why?” Will tried to swallow the sudden lump in his throat as he tried to think of a response. Hannibal set down his glass and slid out of his seat, coming to sit on Will’s ottoman instead. Will watched him with rounded eyes, trying not to stare at the enticing hollow of his throat from his absent tie.

“I-” He swallowed and tried again. “I feel as if everything is about to change. That whatever you say, it will be monumental. And I don’t know if I’m ready for it. Even though it’s happening, it’s unspoken right now. And if I put a name to it, I can fuck it up.” His breath hitched in his chest as the familiar panic closed down his senses. He shut his eyes, willing himself to calm down. Hannibal’s hand suddenly appeared on his back, and the panic ebbed. The tightness in his shoulders loosened fractionally.

“Breathe for me, Will. Just breathe,” Hannibal murmured. For long minutes, the only sounds in the room were the circles Hannibal made against Will’s shirt and Will’s ragged breathing. Finally, the pressure eased.

“I don’t want to mess this up,” he whispered, fear laced deep into his words. “I want what we have so much it hurts. I care about this. For the first time, I care about something that has nothing to do with anyone but me. It’s mine to hold. Mine to break.” His eyes raised to meet Hannibal’s soft gaze. The understanding there made him want to cry. “I can’t lose this. Not now.”

“And what makes you think you will?” Hannibal said quietly, his voice gentle. 

“Me being who I am. I screw up everything eventually.” Hannibal contemplated this, then stood and held out his hand. Will took it questioningly. Hannibal smiled reassuringly.

“I think there is an easier way to solve this than simply telling you what I want, and what we are. One that will make you understand far better than any words I can speak to you. Do you trust me?” Will nodded curiously. “Good. Then come with me. There’s a better way to speak than with words.” Will took another small sip of whiskey then stood. The two men made their way from the room, hand in hand. Hannibal paused to turn off the lights in the kitchen before leading Will to the bedroom. He lit the fire, then extinguished all the lights, letting Will relax in the low light. Drawing the profiler to him, he cradled his face in his hands before bringing their lips together. The kiss felt different than any other than he had shared; sweet and lingering, more a press of lips than a true kiss. It felt as if Hannibal was worshiping him, starting with a gentle press of lips. _Let me show you what you are._

Hannibal’s hands wound into his curls and he lost himself in the hot, soft mouth offered to him. He hardly noticed when Hannibal’s hands moved to unbutton his shirt until he was pulling it out of his slacks. He didn’t hurry to remove it, but rather ran his fingertips along Will’s skin, mapping the flesh and muscle offered to him as if it provided him with sustenance instead of pleasure. Will trembled as his cuffs were gently undone and the shirt removed, the material falling to the ground in a whisper. Hannibal’s fingers traced along the skin of his arms, thumbs trailing along the sensitive flesh at his inner elbows, rounding the curve of his shoulders. Hannibal removed his own shirt, making short work of the buttons and placing his cufflinks quietly on the table. Their mouths met as Hannibal palmed Will’s back, bringing their bodies together in a comforting press of heat and skin. Will’s back was pleasing to stroke, warm and softly muscled. Hannibal’s hands traced the curve of his spine before he moved lower, watching the profiler’s eyes as he slowly unbuckled his belt. They had gone dark with swollen pupil, only a thin blue band of his iris remaining. 

As the belt came loose, the spell suddenly broke, and Will groaned, claiming Hannibal’s mouth in a hot, open mouthed kiss. He devoured his lips as his trembling fingers found the doctor’s belt and together, they shed the last of their clothes before tumbling into bed. Hannibal rolled them over until Will was pinned beneath him, their cocks nestling together as they kissed. Hannibal kissed him until he trembled, his hips rocking, seeking friction. As he pulled back, hair falling in his eyes, his gaze warm and fond, Will panted, trying to catch his breath. Hannibal nuzzled into his throat, reaching for the tube of lube as he did so. As his hands closed over the bottle, he pulled back once again.

“I believe,” he said, uncapping the bottle, “the easiest way for me to tell you what I want from you is to show you. I’m going to make love to you tonight, Will. If you’ll have me.” He kissed Will’s parted lips, watching his eyes. “Words mean nothing if the actions are not shown. I have been hesitating on possessing your body in the way I truly want, but after tonight I cannot continue to wait. I want you, very much. I have wanted you since the moment I saw you.” Will’s breathing hitched as he watched Hannibal’s eyes, wanting to believe, terrified of what he was hearing. Hannibal let the emotions he’d been holding back fill his eyes as he continued to speak.

“What I did not expect,” he said, holding Will’s eyes, “was to fall in love. It’s never happened, in all of my years. I have had patients claim it as reasoning for their actions. I’ve seen destruction and redemption all at the hands of what others call love, but I have never experienced it myself. Not until I shared that first lunch with you.” Will’s breath hitched in his chest as he gazed at the man above him, the need so clearly etched into his eyes it was painful for Hannibal to witness. “I have since grown immensely protective of you. I want your happiness and wellbeing almost more than I want my own. I want you to be safe, and unafraid when inside your own mind. I want your time and your body. I want your laughter, your gaze, your attention. I’ve never wanted these things from another person.” He placed a gentle kiss on Will’s mouth, watching as his throat worked. “I want you to be mine, Will Graham. As everyone saw in us this evening. Together, you and I can be unstoppable, and I very much want to see that come to fruition.” Will’s eyes filled with tears as Hannibal kissed him, stroking his fingers through the wetness on his cheeks. 

“Shhh, darling. Let me show you what it is to be mine. Yes?” Will nodded, reaching for his lips, winding his hands into Hannibal’s hair, the meaning perfectly clear. Enough talking. Show me. Hannibal’s hands once again reached for the slim black bottle, uncapping it as their lips met. The kiss they shared was molten, a release of emotions and fears melting away in their desire. Hannibal wrapped Will’s cock in the familiar pleasure of his hands, stroking him as they kissed, feeling his hips rock with his need for release. _Not for some time yet, sweet. We will get there. I promise._ His other hand gently spread Will’s thighs, allowing him access to lower on his body. Will tensed, his breath hitching as Hannibal began to press gently against the knot of muscle of his opening. For long minutes, there was nothing more than shared kisses and gentle stroking. Will’s hips began to move as he unconsciously begged, wanting and terrified to want. Hannibal watched his eyes carefully, and Will nodded, a silent plea for more.

“Breathe for me love. Just breathe.” Hannibal breached his body with a fingertip as he stroked him, fingers petting along his sides and stroking his cock as he slowly worked a slick finger into his opening. Will’s breath hitched as he moaned brokenly, the intrusion foreign but so good he wanted to sob. When Hannibal was most of the way in, he paused, holding Will’s gaze until he nodded. Slowly, he began to work him open, a single finger pushing in and out until he began to tremble. A small sound escaped his throat as he brought their lips together.

“More.” Hannibal complied, adding lube to a second finger before slowly breaching him once more. The second finger took longer, but soon they were gliding easily within him, and Will was rocking his hips in the rhythm of the strokes, his cock hard and flushed a deep rose, leaking against his stomach. Hannibal added a third finger without being asked, knowing instinctively he was ready. Will relaxed beautifully around his fingers, reduced to a creature of pure feeling as he chased his pleasure. Hannibal watched him with hungry, loving eyes as he curled his fingers, seeking the bundle of nerves within him. Will’s back suddenly bowed off the bed, a cry torn from his throat. _There. Show me, my love. Give to me._

“Oh god, Hannibal, I need you. I need you inside me. I’m ready. Please.” Will’s sobbing cried shook him to his core, and carefully, Hannibal slicked his own hard cock, shuddering at the sensation. Situating himself between Will’s thighs, he lined himself up with Will’s slick opening. He laced their fingers together, trying not to pant as he felt the first, tiny grip on the head of his cock.

“Will. Look at me please.” Will’s eyes snapped open, meeting the molten gaze above him. Carefully, Hannibal began to push inside him. “I love you, darling. ” Will held his eyes, hopelessly lost in the sensation of Hannibal stretching him to the seams, the feeling so good he wanted to die. The head of Hannibal’s cock brushed against his prostate and his vision went white as a cry was torn from his throat.

“H-… Hannibal!” Hannibal lowered his lips to Will’s throat as he filled him, bringing their bodies flush together. He paused, letting Will breathe and adjust to the stretch, kissing along the long column of his neck. Will’s hips rocked, whiting out his vision. _You’re perfect, my love. Show me what you need._ Hannibal began to move, long thrusts out then gently pushing back in, angling so he could rub against Will’s prostate with each thrust. Will moaned, trembling as he gave himself over completely to the man inside him. Hannibal allowed his movements to deepen, his fingers tracing patterns in Will’s skin as he took possession of his body. It was minutes before Will’s breath began to hitch, his body trembling. Hannibal wrapped his hand around his cock, swiping through the moisture at his head to ease his strokes. Will’s moans immediately kicked into cries. Hannibal watched with loving eyes as he came, his entire world exploding around him in a riot of color and sensation. Hannibal fucked him through his orgasm, tilting his hips to relentlessly grind into his prostate as the waves of white sensation swept across his skin. He slowly became aware of a new wetness inside him, Hannibal’s movements eased by the emission of his own orgasm. He reached up with the last of his energy, stroking trembling fingers through Hannibal’s hair as he shuddered. 

Hannibal carefully slid out of his body, finding his lips as he did so. It felt like having an organ removed, as if part of him was now missing. Will closed his eyes as Hannibal padded to the bathroom for a wet cloth to clean them. He heard the water splashing in the bathroom, letting his mind drift to their evening, his brain fogging as the endorphins rushed through his system. He was half asleep when he felt Hannibal part his thighs, cleaning away the stickiness of their passion. H _e came inside me. I can still feel him there._ Will smiled at the thought as Hannibal dispensed of the cloth before climbing into bed next to him. Gentle hands stroked through his hair as he struggled to turn around, wrapping his arms around Hannibal as he did so.

“Was that okay?” Will nodded, yawning. _Why am I suddenly so tired?_

“It was perfect. You are too good to me. Take such good care of all of me.” He could feel the doctor’s smile against his hair.

“I wanted such an occasion to be marked as special, Will. I have never been in love before, nor have I ever wanted to be. I hope you do not mind.” Will laughed, stifling another yawn.

“I’ve never made love, nor taken before. I think it’s safe to say I’m pretty damn in love with you too. I’d rather be completely coherent before I tell you how I feel and you just fucked away all of my energy. Is it okay if we sleep now and talk later?” Hannibal nodded and pulled him close.

“Of course. I look forward to it. Goodnight, Will.”

“Night Hannibal.”

Hannibal waited until Will’s breathing deepened before he laid his head on the pillow, and got up from the bed.

***

Will awoke in the night, disoriented. His head felt fuzzy, mouth cottony and dry. He reached across the sheets, expecting to find Hannibal asleep beside him, but instead the bedside was cold and empty. Shaking his head in an attempt to clear it, he stood. His vision swam as he did so, forcing him to pause. _Jesus, how much did I drink last night?_ When the sensation passed, he padded to the dresser and opened a drawer. He pulled out a clean pair of boxers and a t shirt, pulling them on before reaching for Hannibal’s robe on the back of the door. He felt strangely naked and out of place without Hannibal beside him. 

Trying to shake his dizziness and unease, he pulled open the bedroom door and padded down the hall, looking for signs of his lover’s whereabouts. After a fruitless wander through the house, he made his way back to the kitchen for a glass of water, hoping to cure some of his lethargy. Maybe he went for a run. No idea what time it is after all. As he filled a glass and drank from it, his mind wandered to the events that transpired when they arrived back at Hannibal’s home, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. _Jesus, all he shared, and I can’t even say I love you back._ He sighed, finishing his water _I want him here so I can tell him._ Depositing the glass on the counter, Will decided he’d go back to bed and talk to Hannibal in the morning. As he exited the kitchen, Will saw a dim light coming from what appeared to be a solid wall, pale in the darkness. Curious, he pulled the section of wall open. A set of stairs greeted him, and his stomach clenched tightly. _What the hell is this? Basement? Why is it concealed?_ A second door stood ajar, and as Will paused, he could hear soft cries coming from below. Carefully, he walked down the stairs, trying to ignore the hard beating of his heart. As he reached the bottom, the cries grew louder, desperate. He kept the same measured pace, suddenly unsure he wanted to know what he would find, but unable to stop himself from continuing. 

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight that greeted him at the bottom of the stairs.

Strapped to an operating table in the center of the room lay Freddie Lounds. Sitting next to her, waiting for him to appear, was the man who had made love to him just hours before, a man he had grown to love more than his own life. Freddie’s cries became louder at the sight of him, but Hannibal didn’t move. Instead he stared at Will, eyes cold and unblinking, as Will made his way shakily into the room. Sighing in resignation, Hannibal uncrossed his legs and spoke.

“Good evening, Will. I had hoped the sedative would have lasted a little longer, however you didn’t have enough of your drink when we arrived home before we moved on to… other activities. My mistake completely.” Will’s head swam, the darkness threatening to overtake him. _No. This can’t be real. Not Freddie. Not Hannibal. Not here._ As he collapsed to the ground, the last thing he witnessed was the panic in Freddie’s eyes before Hannibal’s legs blocked her from view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are not allowed to hate me. I promise, there will be a happy ending for our two favorite murder husbands.


	11. Fractured

_I can’t undo what I have done;_   
_I can’t unsing the song that’s sung._

_And the saddest thing about my regret-_   
_I can’t forgive me, and you can’t forget._   
_-Lang Leav_

* * *

Will woke to the bright morning sun streaming through the window of Hannibal’s bedroom, his body wrapped in the covers as if he had been mummified. His head ached fiercely, and his mouth was so dry that it took him a moment to take a decent breath. The air that worked itself into his lungs tickled down his throat, threatening to make him cough as he looked around the room. The sheets next to him were empty, but he could feel Hannibal’s presence around him like an ache. Simply breathing in filled his lungs with the doctor’s scent, making his body ache for him. _Why isn’t he in bed? It’s still so early. Wait…_ He stilled, trying to make sense of the memories that were crashing through his mind like a derailed train. Everything felt jumbled and wrong and more than anything, he wanted to be wrapped in Hannibal’s arms so all the noise of his mind would quiet. He tried to turn, but found himself so bound in the covers it made the movement impossible. Swallowing down his sudden panic, he pulled at the sheets again to no avail.

“Hold still, Will. I will help.” Hannibal’s voice washed over him like a balm, and his breathing slowed. Warm hands disengaged the sheets, giving him enough room to turn and meet the wary maroon gaze of the man in the chair beside the bed. _He looks terrible. What the hell happened-_ Will’s eyes widened as his memories focused and the night before came crashing back. He reeled away from the man at the side of the bed, panting as his breath once again locked in his throat. They stared at one another from feet apart, bloodstained eyes staring into blue, pain clearly etched into both gazes. Hannibal looked as if he hadn’t slept; the t shirt and pants he wore hung off his frame as if they were chosen with nothing in mind except covering his skin. That sight more than any other made Will’s heart squeeze painfully in his chest. Hannibal was usually so careful about how he dressed that the sight of him in something so uncoordinated was disconcerting. _No. You will not feel bad for the man that has a woman tied up in his basement torture room._ Shaking his head, he tried to clear the remaining fuzziness in his mind.

“Why am I in bed?” Hannibal’s mouth quirked up into something resembling a smile as he leaned back in the chair, doing everything in his power to seem gentle and safe.

“You fainted in the basement. It would have been discourteous to leave you there.” Will nodded. Some part of him hoped that Hannibal would tell him that he had fallen asleep after they made love, and that everything else had been a horrible nightmare. _If that was the case, he would be in bed with you, coaxing you onto your back, not sitting in a chair by the bedside as if you’re sick and he doesn’t want to catch it._ Will drew a long, slow breath, trying to calm the tremble in his voice.

“Why is Freddie Lounds in your basement, Hannibal? And why is the basement set up like a surgical suite?” Hannibal sighed and stood, pacing the room to quell the restless energy from the adrenaline in his system as he tried to find the words. Will watched warily from the bed, wishing he had a glass of water. As if reading his mind, Hannibal tilted his head to the night stand, where a cold glass stood.

“You can drink it. It has not been tampered with in any way.” Will laughed without humor, ignoring the glass on the table no matter how tempting it looked.

“You know I’m not going to believe that. I probably won’t be able to take anything else you offer me without watching it being prepared. Now answer my questions, or I’ll just call Jack.” Hannibal stopped pacing and turned to face him, his features going pale and still.

“Is that what you plan to do?” Will shrugged, trying not to let his nerves show.

“It’s what I should do, and you know it. Answer the question.” Hannibal sighed and resumed pacing.

“Freddie is currently my guest because I found her breaking into your home Friday night when I went to feed your dogs. She is convinced you sent the flowers she received and was planning on attempting to obtain proof by helping herself in your absence. I was there when she found your spare key, and wanted to teach her a lesson.” Will stared without replying. Hannibal watched him warily as Will took a deep breath, nodding.

“Okay, that explains Freddie. Why is your basement set up like that?” Hannibal opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Finally, he walked to the window, staring out at the forest they had walked in perfect peace just the day before. He closed his eyes and let the memories wash through him, comforting his rising agitation. _It seems like years since we were at peace with one another, and its been mere hours._

“I don’t want to lie to you, Will. But I cannot answer that question truthfully without it destroying any trust you may still have in me.” Will snorted.

“I don’t have any lingering trust in you. You kidnapped a woman and are keeping her hostage in your home. You drugged me so you could attend to her without me knowing. You have a basement filled with medical equipment. Things aren’t right, but I need to know just how not right they are.” Hannibal watched him as he opened his mouth once again. No sound came out. Will lost his patience and pulled the covers away, standing from the bed. Walking over, he stopped mere inches away, close enough to feel the body heat rolling off the other man’s skin. Even now, he wanted to pull Hannibal to him and kiss him, keep kissing him until the pain of his actions ceased and the ache in his heart faded. Hannibal’s features tried to stay impassive, but Will could see the need in his gaze. “Tell me, please. For the love of god Hannibal, make me understand why you would have your basement set up like a…” His breath caught. _No. No no no. It can’t be. But it all makes perfect sense._

Hannibal watched the truth dawn in his lover’s eyes before he turned away. He didn’t need Will seeing the true pain his realization was causing him. _This is not how I wanted you to find out what I am. I had hoped we would know more of eachother by then, and that you might understand me, but there hasn't been enough time for that._ Will’s breathing evened, and Hannibal could feel his gaze boring into his face, searching. 

“Which one are you?” Hannibal kept staring out the window. No answer would come from his throat. He swallowed, his mouth dry. Will reached out and gripped his arm, drawing Hannibal’s gaze back to his pain filled eyes. “Which one, Hannibal?”

“The Ripper.” The sound came out as an almost whisper as the ugly truth dawned. Will groaned and let him go, gripping his hair in his hands. A sound like a cry escaped before he could stop it.

“It all makes perfect sense now. The FBI. Your job. Getting to know Jack. Taking an interest in me.” He raked his hands through his hair, laughing wildly as he rounded back on Hannibal. “Was any of it real? Or were you just trying to avoid suspicion by fucking with my head?” His words broke as a sob threatened to climb its way out of his throat. He choked it back, burying his face in his hands. He heard Hannibal approach a moment before a hand descended on his shoulder. The sob ripped it’s way from his chest and he wrenched his body away. “I have to go.”

“Will-” He rounded on the man before him, feeling the rage radiating from his skin as he did so.

“No,” he said, trying to stay calm. “No. You don’t get to say my name like I’m someone you care about. You used me. You did all of this,” he said gesturing wildly around him, “to see how close we were to catching you. You chose me because I had the most insight into what your mind looks like. You wanted to see what would happen if you weaseled your way into the heart of the broken profiler. That is your design.” The words burned in his throat as he turned, moving to the drawer that held his clothes. _A drawer for my clothes, what a joke. As if me being here means anything._ Angrily he pulled a pair of jeans and a t shirt from the drawer, pulling them on over the boxers he was wearing. Reaching in, he pulled out a dark blue sweater, one Hannibal told him he loved on him because _it brings out the delightful blue of your eyes._ He remembered laughing as Hannibal had pulled it over his head, exposing his skin instead. Huffing, he threw it to the floor and found a chunky black one instead, yanking it over his head as Hannibal watched, frozen in place. He yanked open the door and made his way through the house, trying to ignore how achingly familiar the path had become, how bright and welcoming the house looked in the morning light. He kept his eyes straight forward so he could avoid looking at the kitchen, the place where they first bonded over culinary delights. Without bothering with socks, he pulled his boots on, wincing as a small pebble rolled beneath his foot. He heard Hannibal approaching as he pulled on his jacket.

“Will-” The single word was soft, broken. _God, the way he says my name. Like it hurts. Like he will miss me._ Will closed his eyes, pushing the pain down.

“I need to be away from you. I don’t know if I’m going to tell Jack, but you should think about finding other employment. It doesn’t have to be right away, or it will look suspicious. But within the next couple of months.” He sighed, risking a glance at the stricken face before him. “Don’t contact me. Don’t look for me, and don’t approach me unless it’s strictly business. Do I make myself clear?” Hannibal said nothing, looking pale and ten years older than he was, the dark circles from his sleepless night standing out in stark contrast to his pale skin. Will shook his head. “Right. Goodbye, Hannibal.” He didn’t wait for a response before he turned and opened the front door, climbing into his car. Turning the engine, he backed up carefully, maneuvering the car until he could drive down the tree lined drive. 

Hannibal watched helplessly from the porch as he disappeared from sight before he collapsed to his knees, shaking. Placing his head in his hands, he wept silently in the bright morning air.

***

 _I can return his containers. There is nothing even slightly romantic about returning what is his._ Hannibal cleared his throat nervously before knocking on Will’s office door. He had waited until mid morning, hoping that his first lecture would be concluded, but there was no response at his tapping. He waited a moment longer before peering under the door. The office lights were out. He straightened and made his way back to his office shoulders slumped. Perhaps he’s just going out of his way to avoid you.

Setting the clean glassware back on his desk, he took a seat in his leather chair, running his fingers through his hair. The night before proved to be just as sleepless as the night Will had discovered him standing over Freddie. Had he followed his normal protocol and left her until the morning, there would have been no knowledge of her just yet, but Will had softened his heart and he had taken pity on her. He had been giving her food and water when he heard Will’s footsteps in the kitchen. His heart still ached at the look that had passed over the profiler’s features as he fell. Hannibal felt a distinct pain at the thought. _This is what finally loving costs. This is the pain that comes with it._

Sighing, Hannibal pulled the notes for the next patient he has visiting towards him, reading without seeing any of the words. His mind was still firmly locked on their dance at the masquerade, the searing kiss they shared as everyone cheered. A knock on his door startled him out of his reverie. Before he could reply, the door handle twisted and Jack stepped through, smiling apologetically as he closed the door behind him.

“Hey, Hannibal,” he said, moving forward to shake the doctor’s hand. “Will called in for the next few days. Flu he said, is that right?” Hannibal closed his eyes and nodded, willing the emotions that threatened to boil over down. _Of course he would take the time to disassociate from me. That makes perfect sense._ He opened his eyes, realizing Jack was still watching him carefully. Blushing, he hastened a reply.

“Ah, yes. He started feeling ill at the end of the masquerade and took his leave of me yesterday morning. I fear I haven’t heard from him since.” He cleared his throat, meeting Jack’s concerned eyes. “Was there something you needed from me, Jack? Or just checking on Will?” Jack stared a moment longer, very obviously sensing something was amiss. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and shook his head.

“I have a case I wanted him to look at is all. Get his initial impressions. It’s not in the county and they’ve already cleaned up the crime scene, but I have photos.” He held out the folder, waiting for Hannibal to take it. “I don’t suppose I can convince you to take it to him for impressions, can I?” Hannibal’s heart squeezed hard in his chest.

“I’m sorry, Jack. If Will isn’t here, I doubt the best thing for him would be to see a folder full of crime photos.” He attempted to hand the folder back, trying to quell the tremor in his hands. Jack shook his head.

“That folder is for you. I already have another made up for Will. I’d like your impressions of the scene as well. I was hoping you two could work together to build a profile for me, but I know Will needs his beauty rest.” Jack looked closer at Hannibal’s eyes. “You don’t look like you’re feeling too well yourself, Doctor Lecter. You may want to consider taking the rest of the day-” Hannibal shook his head.

“I’m feeling fine, Jack. Thank you for your concern. I’ll make myself a cup of tea and make it an early night.” He attempted a smile as he stood, gesturing to the door. “Forgive me, but I have a patient arriving in about ten minutes, and I’d like to have a look at your photos before he arrives. I’ll try and have an initial report on your desk before the day concludes.” Sensing the dismissal for what it was, Jack stood and nodded.

“I appreciate it, Doctor. I may still have to stop by Will’s to get the full picture. I’m sure you understand the need.” Hannibal nodded, pushing down his anger. 

“Work is always important, Jack. But please be gentle with him. He’s quite tired and may not be happy for the interruption.” He walked Jack to his office door, closing it firmly behind him. Leaning against the wood, he closed his eyes, trying to push the misery down. _Imagine sending me with crime scene photos to his house, especially knowing what I am._ Crossing to his electric kettle, he started the water before opening Jack’s folder. _At least I can give him my thoughts. They won’t be as concise, but they should be able to provide him with some insight_. With his cup of tea in his hand, he sat down and began to write out his notes.

***

 _I remember now why I hate shopping so much. This is ridiculous._ Will hefted the bags up on his arm, panting as he attempted to lock his car. The bags he held, containing some new clothing and toiletries and some containers of premade meals, weighed more than he expected. Not wanting to make a second trip for the rest, he loaded his arms up and waddled up the stairs of his home, trying to see where he was going. Shuffling through his keys for his house key, he tried very hard not to think about why he had to purchase new clothes, and where the rest of his wardrobe was currently located. Y _ou’ll never see those things again, so might as well forget about it_. His heart ached at the thought of Hannibal picking up his fallen sweater, packing it away in the drawer. He will probably just throw all of my stuff away he thought bitterly.

His keys slipped through his fingers and he cursed, setting the bags down to pick them back up. He flexed his fingers before unlocking the door and pushing it open, ignoring the sudden sea of fur as he picked the bags back up and carried them into the house. Going back onto the porch, he rescued a premade meal from Winston’s mouth before collecting the rest of the bags. Depositing them onto the counter, he closed the door and set about putting the food away. The beer he purchased was tempting, but he consoled himself with a caramel instead. _No matter how low I am, day drinking is off the list._ He took the time to pet his pack and fill their water before taking the rest of the bags to the bedroom. He dumped them out onto the bed and gathered some hangers, trying very hard to shut his mind down when thoughts of how much Hannibal would approve of his choices entered.

His task complete, Will toed off his shoes and crawled into bed, his mind spinning with the memories of late night texting conversations while he lay here, laughing at the other man’s clever jokes and banter. Removing his phone from his pocket, he thumbed through until he found their string of texts, his eyes burning as he read through them. _I’ll never receive another running picture._ Closing the texts, he let his finger hover over the delete button, but finally locked his phone, tossing it on his night stand. There would be plenty of time to delete the messages later. Turning on his side, he closed his eyes and let the familiarity of his own house fill him as he drifted towards sleep, very carefully avoiding thoughts of being held against a man he now realized he didn’t know.

The knock at the door startled him out of his drifting, not really asleep but far from awake. Groggily Will reached for his phone, noting 3 missed calls from Jack. He stood and smoothed his clothes before padding to the door. He reached for the handle but instead called through, his voice rough with sleep.

“Who is it?” 

“It’s Jack, Will. I tried to call, but you didn’t answer. Can I come in?” Will snorted.

“I’ve got the flu. You don’t need to catch it.” He hesitated before continuing. “Did Hannibal send you?” He could hear shuffling outside as he waited for a response.

“No, I came because I need your help with a crime scene. Don’t worry,” the muffled voice said as Will groaned, “Its already been torn down. Just photos. I asked for Hannibal’s help as well, but your insight is better when its done together. Will you take a look?” Will hesitated.

“Is Hannibal with you?” He hated the thread of hope in his voice.

“No, I figured he’d be stopping by with soup or something later, but I couldn’t convince him to bring by the file. He looks like he could use the soup as much as you sound like you need it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him not look put together.” There was a pause as Jack set something by the door. “Can you take a look please, and send your report in with Hannibal tomorrow? I’ll leave it out by the door so you can collect it when I go.” Will’s heart squeezed with distress, making his eyes burn.

“I-” he swallowed and tried again. “I don’t think I’ll be seeing Hannibal for a few days. I’ll email you my own findings.” He could hear the snort through the door.

“I highly doubt you will keep him away if you’re sick, Will. Not after I saw you guys at the masquerade. Just compile your joint notes before you email me. I don’t want to read two sets. I’ll see you at the office when you’re feeling better.” Before Will could protest, he heard the other man walk down his porch and get into his car. When he could no longer hear it, he opened his door and snagged the folder, taking it to the living room and dropping it onto his coffee table before going to the kitchen to find something to eat. He opened the freezer and selected a frozen meal at random, popping it into the microwave before pulling a beer from the fridge. _If I have to wade through bodies at home, at least I can numb it, especially since I won’t have Hannibal’s assistance to count on._ The microwave beeped and he carefully removed the meal, depositing it onto a plate in an attempt to make it appear more appetizing. Taking the plate and the beer to his couch, he took a small bite of food before reaching for the file. Flipping it open, he perused the gruesome pictures of wounds, looking for what Jack wanted him to see. Reaching the end of the stack, he didn’t bother with the report. Instead, he reached for his beer, closed his eyes and let the pendulum swing.

 _This is my first kill, and I didn’t really know what I was doing, but I wanted to make it hurt. I felt strongly about what I was doing. This scene was set for someone else to see, probably the missing husband. I used a knife to open her throat and stabbed her as she died._ His breath locked in his throat _. Wounds of betrayal. I am upset with her, she took what is mine and left me with nothing but the emptiness in my heart. She took my happiness, so I took everything from her. This is my design. His heart thudded hard in his chest. This isn’t about him, it’s about her._ Will reached for his phone. Before he realized what he was doing, he typed in a message to Hannibal, sending it before he came to his senses. As he saw the status change to delivered, he cursed himself. _What the fuck am I doing? I don’t need his help. Especially when on a case of betrayal._ The ping of his phone indicating he had a new message appeared. Trembling, he picked it up, dreading the words that he would see. 

[07:23PM] _I had come to that conclusion myself, and illustrated it in my notes to Jack this afternoon. If you send me your notes, I shall compile them and email them in conjunction with my own. How are you? -HL_

Will snorted before replying.

[07:25PM] **Don’t even start with me, Hannibal. I’ll send you my notes. Send them to Jack. Don’t pretend to care about me. Not after everything you did. WG**

[07:26PM] _While you may find it difficult to believe now, I have never pretended to care for you. Everything since our first crime scene has been genuine affection for you, Will. I care very deeply for you. -HL_

Will typed furiously hitting send and downing the remainder of his beer as he tossed his phone on his couch.

[07:29PM] **You never cared, or you wouldn’t have lied. There is no going back from the knowledge you’ve given me. There is no going forward when I know. I’ll compile my notes and send them. Don’t contact me again. WG**

The quiet chime of his phone, muffled by the pillows it landed on, sounded like a death toll. He picked it up, his eyes blurring with tears at the response.

[07:31PM] _As you wish. -HL_

Will stood and threw the remaining contents of his unappetizing meal away before getting another beer. Grabbing his laptop from his briefcase, he walked back to the couch and flopped down to compile his notes.

***

The next few days passed quietly until suddenly Friday had arrived without warning. Hannibal kept busy, taking his usual patients and listening to their traumas, offering assistance as half of his mind strayed from memory to memory, smiles shared, kisses in the kitchen, witty texts and tangled limbs. His sheets at home still held Will’s scent and although it was past his usual schedule to change them, he couldn’t bring himself to remove them from the bed. Freddie was still in his basement, as he had not figured out what to do with her just yet. She had taken to taunting him, reminding him of how fleeting their love had been before it had been dissolved. He fed her in silence before locking her below, but each venomous word that dripped from her mouth broke his heart into pieces. 

While work should have been a reprieve, he found himself staring more and more often across the hall to Will’s darkened office. His mind couldn’t leave their happier moments in the past, often superimposing over the quiet walls their time spent compiling notes as they traded lunch. His own meals had been lacking in quality ever since the break, when he managed to eat anything at all. Smiling as much as he could, he let the junior agent out of his office with the promise of talking more about his mother at their appointment the following week. He sighed and glanced once more at Will’s office before moving back inside his own, closing the door behind him. Moving to his electric kettle, he set it to boil while he searched for his grinder, trying to blink the tiredness from his eyes. _Coffee. Fresh coffee will help._

Without preamble, his door opened. Beverly Katz walked inside, closing the door behind her as she moved into the room. Hannibal froze, unsure of how to respond to her sudden appearance. She stood, surveying him with concern as he tried to speak.

“Hello Ms. Katz. I wasn’t expecting you in my office.” She stayed silent, watching him as he turned back to his kettle. “I was just about to make some coffee. Would you-”

“What happened between you and Will?” He nearly dropped the kettle at her words. Trembling, he filled the French press that stood waiting and set the timer, carefully keeping his back to her.

“What makes you think-”

“Cut the crap, Doctor Lecter. You all but proposed to him on the dance floor last weekend, and now he isn’t here. You look like shit and are wandering the Bureau like a ghost of your former self. All you need is the rattling chains.” Tossing her long black hair over one shoulder, she took his usual seat and smiled. “Coffee would be great. I told your next appointment to take a hike. Instead, you get to sit on the other side of your usual arrangement and talk to me.” Hannibal smiled wanly as he filled two cups.

“How do you take your coffee?” Beverly grinned.

“Almost white with milk and enough sugar to put me into a diabetic coma.” Hannibal laughed and brought her the sugar bowl and cream he kept in his own mini fridge. _The one Will insisted I get for our lunches._ Pushing the thought down, he brought their coffee over and took a seat opposite her. He closed his eyes as he took a sip of his own coffee, relishing the rich, dark taste as Beverly doctored her own.

“Spill, Doctor Lecter. Will hasn’t answered my calls and texts to check on him all week. You’ve been leaving late and going straight home. Something happened, and I want to know what it is.” Hannibal sighed and took another sip before meeting her worried eyes.

“How do you know I’ve been going straight home?” Beverly smiled into her cup.

“I followed you. Now quit wasting time on the details. What happened?” Hannibal blinked slowly, absorbing this new information. It didn’t even occur to him that someone else might care enough to track his movements. The thought was chilling.

“We had a… disagreement.” She snorted into her cup, waiting for him to continue. He closed his eyes, wondering how much to tell her.

“I can see you filtering, Hannibal. I’m in your chair right now, right?” She smoothed her hand down the soft leather, smiling gently. “Consider yourself my patient for the next however long this takes. No matter what it is, it won’t leave this room.” Hannibal met her eyes, considering. _What harm can it do? If I tell her some of it, perhaps she will tell Jack and take the burden from Will’s shoulders. It would be one less thing for him to have to consider._ Sighing, he took another small sip as he wondered where to begin.

***

The pounding on his door woke him from his alcoholic stupor. Will’s brain ached from the third beer, and as he pulled himself up from the couch, he wondered vaguely how long he had been asleep. Wrapping himself in a blanket, he made his way to the door, wishing the world would stop spinning.

“Will?” Beverly’s voice filtered through the door. _Fuck._ He stopped moving, hoping she hadn’t heard his footsteps approaching. _Fuck, fuck, fuck_. “Open up. I heard you coming towards the door and I know you’re not sick. I really need to talk to you.” He could hear concern laced through her usual goodnatured demeanor. It was almost enough to get him to open the door.

“I-” 

“Cut the shit, Will. I talked to Hannibal. Open the door.” Will reeled back, cursing.

“Whatever he told you is a lie, Beverly. He doesn’t know how to be honest. Everything-” his breath hitched as he tried to continue. “Everything he ever told me. Everything he pretended to be. It’s a lie.” 

“So he doesn’t have Freddie Lounds tied up in his basement, then? And after the high five I gave him and all.” Will’s heart thrashed in his chest at her words.

“He- he told you about Freddie?” She snorted, the sound muffled by the door.

“It took some convincing to get him to tell me what was wrong with you two, and I had to know. I’ve got a lot of money riding on the outcome.” She paused, waiting for him to laugh. When she didn’t she sighed and continued. “Now, can you please open the door? We need to talk.” Will moved to the door, unlocking the bolt before pulling it open. Beverly assessed his appearance as she crossed the threshold.

“Jesus, you may as well be sick. Go and brush your teeth, will you? I can smell your breath from here.” She turned and headed toward his kitchen. “I’ll make you some coffee while I wait.” As if in a dream, Will nodded and moved off to the bedroom. He washed his face, drying his skin in slow automatic movements before reaching for his toothbrush. He spent several minutes cleaning his teeth before glancing into the mirror. He looked tired, but marginally better than he had. He cautiously moved to the kitchen, watching with some humor as the dogs milled around Beverly’s feet, hoping for scraps of the bacon she had found in the fridge. She turned back smiling and handing him a cup of coffee from his coffee pot. 

“Got any milk?” she said as she added three heaping spoons of sugar to her cup. Will snorted and gestured to the fridge. 

“It should still be good.” He hesitated before continuing. “What are you doing here, Beverly?” She glanced back as she looked through the fridge, finally coming up with an almost full carton. _I haven’t been here to drink it. I’ve hardly been home at all._ Sniffing it, she emptied a good portion into her cup before leaning on the counter, taking an experimental sip.

“Perfect. And I told you why I’m here. I want to talk to you about Hannibal.” Will eyed her over his cup.

“What did he tell you that got you banging on my door in the middle of the afternoon?” Beverly flipped the bacon before sliding it next to the toast she apparently made. Sliding the plate across to him, she took another sip of coffee and watched his face as she spoke.

“That he’s in love with you. And he got only a moment of happiness before all of the darker shit in his life came crashing down on you like a wrecking ball. And that you refused an explanation beyond why he kidnapped Lounds. Which,” she added, grinning as she stole a slice of bacon, “you have to admit is long overdue. How many lives has she destroyed with her articles? How many people has she brought down with a glorified rag mag? She took a picture of your stitches in the hospital and hounded you on a date for gods sake! Everything he has done is karma, Will. Surely you must see that.”

“And drugging me? That’s karma? What else did he tell you?” She sighed, crunching her food.

“I know what he is, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m not saying I condone it,” she said as Will opened his mouth. “I’m saying that it’s not the worst thing we’ve ever seen in our long years chasing killers. And what you two do for one another…” her eyes misted as she spoke. “Damn it Will. That kind of connection is so unbelievably rare. It’s fairy tale shit. I know he’s done some fucked up things, and lord knows it will take you some time to try and trust him. But…” Will took a bite of toast, sipping his coffee before he tried to speak.

“Beverly, I feel like I should tell you to reach out for an evaluation of your own. Do you hear yourself? You’re saying you’re okay with Hannibal being a serial killer. That tying up an innocent woman in his basement, which looks like a surgical theater, by the way, is okay. That she deserves it. That getting to know me to see how close we were to catching him is okay.” His words sounded tired and resigned, even to himself.

“She’s hardly innocent,” Beverly muttered. Will laughed without humor as he reached for more bacon.

“And what of the rest? What about all those lives he’s taken over time? Who were they before?” Beverly shrugged.

“He told me some of it, but I doubt you want to hear what I have to say.” She took his hand and gripped it, watching his face. “All I am saying is you are giving something up, something valuable and important. It could change your entire life. You’re going to give that up because he tried to protect you. He hasn’t taken a life in _two years_ , Will. That was the last actual Ripper victim. He stopped. Then, Freddie Lounds _broke into your home_ after he warned her to stay away from you.” Will’s eyes widened as he swallowed, his mouth going dry.

“He sent her the flowers?” Beverly laughed and drained her cup.

“Yes, with a very cleverly worded warning. He definitely has a way with words.” _I know he does. He’s very good with his mouth, even hiding the bitterness of his lies._ Will shook his head.

“So you just want me to forgive him and move on. Let what he’s done wash over me as if it didn’t happen. Forget that he used me to get an inside view-” Beverly gripped his wrist hard, digging her nails into his skin.

“He _helped_ you, Will. Do you remember what a mess you were during the Shrike cases? How you sleep walked and jumped at small sounds? I sure as hell do. You couldn’t meet anybody’s eyes for more than a few seconds. Most of that is gone now, washed away in the knowledge that someone will be there if you get lost. You’re more clear headed and confident than you’ve ever been, and that’s his doing.” She released his arm and walked back to the coffee pot, filling her cup.

“I can’t just forgive him, Beverly. I can’t trust him. What does it matter if I love him if I can’t trust him?” She eyed him over the rim of her cup.

“He said you didn’t say it, you know. When he confessed his feelings, he said you didn’t.” Will hesitated, thinking.

“I didn’t. I don’t know why.”

“Do you love him?” Will’s heart thudded hard. The bacon and toast turned to a hard ball in his stomach as he tried to quiet the spinning of his mind.

“It doesn’t matter.” Beverly rolled her eyes.

“It does. It matters a great deal. It will help you decide what you are going to do. We both know his secret, Will. If you go to Jack, I’ll find evidence. He knows that too. Part of the reason he told me was in the hope of removing the burden of the knowledge from you. If I chose to act on it, you wouldn’t have to.” Will’s breath stilled as he absorbed this new piece of information.

“Why would he hand himself over to you like that?” Beverly’s eyes gleamed as she answered.

“Why indeed. He loves you, you idiot. He loves you more than he loves his own freedom, and he will risk everything to keep from hurting you further.” She drained her cup, rinsing it in the sink before putting it on the rack to dry. Rounding the counter, she pulled Will into a hug. He trembled, overcome.

“I don’t know what to do.” She rubbed small circles into his back as she spoke low in his ear.

“Talk to him. Try to listen and not just talk. Really listen to what he has to say. Love isn’t a straight path, Will. At best, it’s a tightrope, it’s ends the beginning and end of any relationship, the distance changing as the relationship evolves. The chasm below? That’s doubt. All it takes is one misstep, and we can fall. Our trust in our lover is the harness. We can fall, but it will be there to catch us if we do. If we begin to lose our ability to trust, the harness breaks and we fall into the chasm of doubt. That is how we lose the ones we love.” She pulled back, looking into his eyes as they welled with tears. “It’s up to you if you let the harness break, Will. You have the chance to be something truly great with him, to become someone that is more than you’ve ever been. Every step you take is a choice, and you have to decide what’s more important to you: your need to be right in your anger and doubt, or your love for the man that caused it.” She patted him on the shoulder before moving toward the door.

“Talk to him. I know he’s going to be home tonight, likely wallowing in the same grief as you are. You need one another, either to fix this or sever your ties. The only way you can figure it out is to talk to him, though.” She smiled as she opened his door. “Just go, Will. The worst that will happen is you’ll know you can’t do it. The best thing that will happen is you two can start to heal. But don’t let your indecision cut you both.” She closed the door before he could respond. He heard her car start, making its way down the drive as he sat at the counter, shaking. _Can I do this? Can I forgive him, or even talk to him? Do I want to?_ He laughed. Every part of his being longed to be back with the man that brought him confidence, color and light. He ached to be in his presence, wrapped in his arms as they slept. It was a joke to think otherwise.

Making up his mind, Will stood and cleaned the dishes Beverly had left, feeding the dogs the remaining scraps of bacon before moving through the house to the shower.

***

Hannibal closed the door to the basement, locking his guest and her vitriol away as he hung the key back on the wall. It isn’t as if she’s not right. _He didn’t say it, and I highly doubt at this point that he felt anything except infatuation. It was too soon to expect more._

Sighing, he shut the panel and moved to the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of wine from the bottle he selected at random from his cellar. He took a large, fortifying sip before setting the glass down to remove his tie, moving to the bedroom to change. As he tossed the tie to the bed and undid the first two buttons of his shirt, the doorbell rang, startling him out of his memories of the last time Will had been in his bed. _Curse whomever is at my door. I do not want company tonight. I want to drink until I can’t think._ Sighing, he moved slowly to the door, pulling it open without looking.

Will stood before him, clean but tired looking, his eyes filled with wary apprehension. Hannibal didn’t move, unsure if he was really seeing the man before him, his heart thudding in his chest. Will spoke quietly, holding his eyes, breaking his heart into a thousand pieces at the sound. _God I missed his voice._

“Hi Hannibal. Can I come in?” Nodding wordlessly, his heart beating wildly in his chest Hannibal stepped aside to permit him entry. _Please, whomever is listening. Just… please._


	12. Choices

_Golden child,_   
_Lion boy;_   
_Tell me what it’s like to conquer._

_Fearless child,_   
_Broken boy;_   
_Tell me what it’s like to burn._

_-Gallixie, Oh Darling, Even Rome Fell_

* * *

Will walked across the threshold of the house as if he had never been there, cautious as a kicked puppy. Hannibal closed and locked the door with shaking hands before turning back to the man standing behind him. He surveyed his appearance with concern, taking in the dark circles under his eyes and his pale skin. _Hasn’t been sleeping. Caught up in the nightmare I drew him into while trying to act with chivalry. Night terrors have likely returned. Nobody to help him through them._ Each thought distressed him more than the last as Will moved into the front hall. He bent to remove his shoes and Hannibal’s heart squeezed tightly in his chest; the simple act was so achingly familiar that it took his breath to watch. Will straightened and lifted the corner of his mouth in a semblance of a smile, eyeing the man in front of him.

“You look like shit. Have you been sleeping at all?” Hannibal laughed, the sound a little wile even as he felt some of the tension leave his back. Turning back to the kitchen he walked to the cabinet containing his wine glasses and retrieved a second glass before picking up the wine bottle he had chosen.

“I’ve managed my minimum requirement without finding any true rest. You appear to have fared as well as I have at the sudden separation,” he said over his shoulder. “Although you have managed to shower today. I was about to do so when you came knocking.” Walking back to Will, he gestured with the wine glasses. “Shall we have this discussion in my office? Neutral ground, as it were.” Will nodded and took the bottle from Hannibal’s hands and inspected the label, trying to calm his nerves as their fingers brushed. Hannibal’s skin was warm and as familiar as his favorite book. He ached to take comfort from his touch but refrained, very carefully feeling nothing. 

“Far Niente Cabernet. Interestingly expensive choice,” Will commented, happily surprised at how mild his voice sounded. Hannibal snorted as he turned to walk down the hall towards his office.

“A fairly drinkable red wine that was chosen at random from my collection in the wine cellar to bring back the numbness. And it’s not that expensive,” he said defensively. “There are bottles contained within that room that cost thousands of dollars, rare vintages that may not be drunk in my lifetime, as I highly doubt I shall find the proper occasion to do so. This one is merely a couple hundred. A pittance.” Will laughed as Hannibal opened the door and ushered him into the room. Hannibal barely caught himself as he raised a hand towards Will’s back, the gesture unconscious and achingly familiar. _He would not appreciate it if I touched him._ Crossing to their usual seats by the fire, he set their glasses down on the central table and moved to kneel by the fire. Will stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. The touch stilled his movements like a rabbit caught in a snare.

“Go change. That will help a little at least, especially since I showed up before you could shower. I’d much rather you be comfortable in your own home.” He helped Hannibal stand as he took his place. “I’ll start the fire while I wait.” Hannibal nodded reluctantly and left the room as Will turned towards the fire, trying to quiet his mind as he lit the logs that had already been stacked neatly inside. He pushed the memories of other nights spent in these chairs before the fire aside, steadfastly determined to keep his mind firmly planted in the present. _It won’t help anybody to bring up what has been between us._ We need to discuss the present, not what we could have been for one another. Once the fire was merrily popping the sap in the wood, he stood and moved to his chair, pouring himself a glass of wine as he waited for Hannibal to return. Staring into the flames, he took a sip from the glass, letting the smooth notes of the wine slide over his tongue before he swallowed. The memory of Hannibal teaching him how to distinguish the different flavors in wine rose in his mind as he took another small sip. His eyes drifted closed as he heard Hannibal’s voice inside his head, the barely contained laughter of Will’s struggles with his task plain in his voice. _You’re trying too hard, darling. Close your eyes and breathe in as you sip. Your nose will help you determine what was used in this bottle’s making._ They had ended up finishing two bottles of expensive white, Will naming flavors he could discern, before tumbling into bed, their mouths tasting of apple and pear, hands buried in eachother’s hair. Will shut down the train of thought immediately, setting his glass down to card his fingers through his hair.

A sound behind him caught his attention and Will glanced up to see Hannibal moving towards the fire in a pair of comfortable grey pants and Will’s favorite piece of clothing that Hannibal owned; a finely knitted v necked maroon sweater that clung to his chest and torso enticingly. Will knew from experience that the material was the softest thing he had ever felt and Hannibal’s body encased in it was nothing short of Heaven. His heart ached as Hannibal took a seat. He had never expressed how much he loved the sweater and seeing it on the doctor tonight made him want to cry, to drop to his knees in front of Hannibal’s chair and beg him for forgiveness. He wanted to slide his hands beneath the fabric and touch the warm skin beneath, pull it up and off and leave it on the floor as they found their way to the bedroom. He picked up his wine and took a fortifying sip, trying to quell the thoughts spinning madly in his mind. _We wouldn’t even have to make it to the bedroom. The floor would do. Against the wall. Anything._

“Thank you for tending to the fire, Will,” Hannibal said, his voice as warm and soft as the firelight. “I appreciate the opportunity to remove the clothes I wore to work.” Will kept his eyes on the fire, toying with the stem of his glass to give his hands something to do.

“It was no trouble at all. Are you…” he hesitated, taking a steadying breath. “Are you more comfortable at least?” Hannibal nodded, turning his face towards the profiler.

“I am. Thank you.” Will nodded. Several minutes passed in silence, both men adrift in their own thoughts.

“Tell me everything, Hannibal. I feel I have the right to know.” Hannibal started at the sound of Will’s voice, pulled from the memory of the masquerade he had been perusing. He sighed and set his wine glass down before angling his body to be able to view Will from where he sat. Will kept his body in a parody of relaxation, focusing intently on the flames as Hannibal watched his face, his own body tense as he tried to decide where to begin.

“If you insist we go back to the beginning, we may be here all night,” he said. When Will didn’t respond, he sighed and turned to face the flames. “I believe my pathology as I am now began with the death and consumption of my sister, Mischa.” Will turned his head to stare at Hannibal in horror. Hannibal snorted derisively, picking up his glass and draining it before refilling it. “It’s good to know you think I would actually hurt my own sister. I would not. Mischa was…” his voice drifted off as he wandered into the corridor of his mind that contained his memories of his sister. “Mischa was everything,” he said quietly, his voice thick with sorrow. “There is nothing I wouldn’t have done to keep her happy and safe.” He took a sip from the new glass of wine he had poured, barely tasting it, but praying it brought some form of numbness. “Alas, it was not to be. We grew up in the middle of a civil war in Lithuania. My family’s home was overtaken by wandering thugs, my parents killed. The men that came to our home took the time to torment them before their deaths.” He took another sip of wine, letting himself wander to the rooms he kept locked within his memory palace. He avoided the darkness of these places, even when he sought out the comforts of home before the fall. The things contained within often had teeth and claws that gnawed at him, bringing him pain he didn’t want to face. Shaking his head, he took another long drink of wine, once again draining the glass. Setting it down, he leaned forward in his chair, his arms on his knees, hands clasped for support. His hair fell into his closed eyes as he let himself remember. Will’s heart ached as he watched Hannibal's sorrow out of the corner of his eye. He was almost sorry he asked the question, but he had to know.

“The men that stole our home kept me for housework and the like. Mischa must have been thought to have use later, as they kept her in her room. It could have just been who she was, though. She had the ability to charm anyone who came within her presence." _She's not the only Lecter with that power_ thought Will as Hannibal continued his tale. "When the winter set in, it was cold and merciless, colder than any other winter I experienced there. Our captors had been gluttonous with the cache of food we had stored and not long after the first snows fell, they were running low. We had animals they slaughtered, but there was no place to fortify and store large quantities for long periods of time. We had no salt for curing. It wasn’t long before they began to starve. They ate everything they could before turning to Mischa, but it didn’t stop them from consuming her,” he said bitterly. “I was forced to consume enough to keep me alive, or they'd have nobody to do the work they had no knowledge of completing. Unbeknownst to them, I made sure to keep up my strength, eventually escaping into the woods.” The pain in his voice was palpable, and Will’s heart ached for the boy he must have been, young and so desperate to save a girl he didn’t stand a chance of protecting.

“What became of the men that took your family?” he asked quietly. Hannibal stared into the flames for a long time before responding.

“After I came into my uncle and aunt’s care, I hunted them down with the assistance of my aunt’s handmaiden, Chiyoh. Only one still lives. She holds him captive at the Lecter estate in Lithuania.” Hannibal’s eyes burned with tears at the memories that coursed through him, but he pushed them back, unwilling to allow them to consume him as they had often done before his uncle had helped him develop methods of boxing away his memories for him to peruse at his own leisure. He closed the door to the room that contained the pain of his past and locked the door behind him. Will was staring openly at him as if waiting for him to continue, but Hannibal had nothing left to say. The silence fell around them, and Hannibal let it. He didn’t want to talk about Mischa, especially her fate. He couldn’t meet Will’s eyes in these moments of vulnerability. He didn’t want to see the pity that would be in his eyes. “It was a long time ago, Will. They are memories I choose not to keep at the forefront of my mind. When my Uncle Robertus was murdered, I hunted and consumed parts of his killer. This became my method of vengeance, and eventually my preferred killing method. I could attempt to dissect my mind down for you, but it would be a waste of time.” Hannibal sighed, staring into the fire. “I am what I am. I refrain from taking more than what you call my ‘sounders’. My meals are made of the rude, the disrespectful, the despicable. I rarely take anyone who didn’t behave like an animal and if I do, it is not without a reason. You can choose to believe of me what you will, but I never took someone who didn’t earn their fate.” Will snorted as he downed the rest of his wine, reaching for the bottle.

“Free range rude, then.” Hannibal laughed without humor. 

“If it helps for you to look at it that way, yes.” Will nodded.

“Was the night of the masquerade the first time you drugged me?” Hannibal hesitated, thrown off balance by the sudden shift in their conversation. He added wine to his glass and took another small sip, his head spinning as the alcohol circulated through his system. _Numb at last, and just when I need my wits about me._

“Yes. It was the first and only time I have ever administered any kind of medication into your system, sedative or otherwise.” he said. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “You make me… different, Will. Before, I would have simply ended Freddie Lounds’s life, taken her apart and displayed her as one of my victims before you would have had an inkling that she was missing.” He chanced a glance in Will’s direction, meeting his eyes for a brief moment before looking away. “But then I began the work that I do now, and I find hunting killers at your side satisfies the need I had for taking life. While I crave… other aspects of my kills, these too can be overcome. I have found I got much more from what we have…” Hannibal swallowed audibly, quietly correcting himself. “Ah, what we had. I was more centered and focused. Then, Freddie Lounds chose to be insufferably obstinate. I may have been impulsive. I have done what I can to keep her comfortable, but I wanted you to have the chance to decide her fate when it was time. I realize now that I was misguided in seeking your vengeance for you.” Will nodded.

“What became of her?” Hannibal looked over, confused. 

“What do you mean?”

“Well, did you eat her? Or just kill her and bury her somewhere? I imagine her meat would be as bitter as she is,” Will said, a small smile on his lips. Hannibal stared at him, a small bubble of hope blossoming in his chest.

“She’s not dead, Will. She’s still in my basement.” Will finally met his eyes, his gaze wide and disbelieving.

“Why didn’t you kill her?” he asked quietly. Hannibal hesitated, his eyes darting away.

“I wanted to make things right between us. Killing her would have done exactly the opposite. I still want you to have a choice in her fate, no matter the cost to me.” Will put down his glass and stood.

“Take me downstairs to her. Let me talk to her.” Hannibal closed his eyes, resigned. Once again downing his glass, he stood on shaky legs and lead the way from the room, Will close at his heels. He opened the panel that hid the staircase to the basement and removed the keys from where they hung just inside the corridor. He unlocked the door with trembling hands, pushing it open to reveal the worst of Will’s nightmares over the past week; the table, the surgical equipment, the containers and refrigerator. He walked past where Freddie lay and opened the fridge, expecting neatly packed rows of meat from Hannibal’s victims. Instead, it held medication for anesthesia, sedatives and antibiotics, but was otherwise empty. A small knot loosened in his stomach as he closed the door. Freddie’s frightened eyes met his as he moved closer, widening as he stopped at the table. For long moments, neither of them spoke. Hannibal hovered in the doorway, unwilling to interrupt the moment Will needed to have with the woman currently at his mercy. 

“Hello Freddie,” Will said, his voice hollow. Hannibal’s breath caught in his throat. _What game is he playing?_

“Hello Will,” she said sullenly. “Have you finally come to kill me, then?” Will laughed, the sound low and dark in his throat.

“I believe much of that decision will depend on the conversation we have over the next several minutes. If you can keep a civil tongue in your head, there’s still a chance for you.” He bent down, bringing himself to eye level. “You have to understand that if Hannibal lets you go, he will always be able to catch you and finish what was begun here. Do you understand that?” Freddie nodded slowly, her eyes rounded and glassy with fear.

“I understand,” she said, her breath breathy. Her eyes suddenly hardened as she laughed, the sound harsh as it rang through the echoing space. “I understand that you are just as pathetic as I always suspected you to be. You couldn’t keep it together during the Shrike case, you can’t keep it together now, even when you’re handed something I’m sure you’ve fucking dreamed about.” She glanced at Hannibal and smirked. “Proving I’m alive won’t save you, Doctor Lecter. We both know that Will is still going to turn away from you.” She laid her head back against the table and closed her eyes. “Once you two stop this game you’re playing with one another, kindly untie me. Until then, you can both leave.”

Shaking, Will straightened and marched from the room, leaving Hannibal where he stood by the door.

“Hannibal,” Freddie called from her table. He turned to face her, his face set. She smiled gently, watching his eyes. “You killed your relationship the second you involved me. Will likes to pretend he can handle the things that make him good at what he does, but he will always be the scared little boy he’s always been.” She lowered her head once again. “I’ll see you when you come to untie me.” Hannibal turned and walked from the room, his heart pounding.

***

He found Will once again slumped into his chair in his office. Their eyes met in the firelight as Hannibal hovered by his chair, unwilling to allow the intimacy of the space so close to Will engulf him once again.

“You should have just killed her,” Will said harshly, running a hand through his curls. Hannibal watched as his hair fell hopelessly back into his eyes. He very much wanted to reach over and run his hands through the soft curls, pull softly until Will’s lips parted with need. He wanted to bury himself in the man before him and forget everything that had happened. He wanted the security of what they had, and knew instinctively it was never to be his again. He sighed and looked away before he did something foolish.

“I already explained why I chose not to," he said softly. "I cannot continue to reexplain myself in the vain hope that you will understand if I say the right words. I know you have no understanding of what I am, but you know me better than anyone else has, past or present.” He looked beseechingly at Will, begging him without words to understand. Will refused to meet his eyes. Hannibal's own eyes fell shut as he fought back the tears that welled just behind his eyes. “It appears that no matter how I chose, I would have lost what I was so desperately holding on to, so the point is moot. We both lose.”

“You know I can’t condone this, Hannibal. I’m one of the good guys. I’ve built my career on catching the bad guys, and you’re one of the people I’m currently investigating. How am I supposed to lo-… How am I supposed to care for someone who’s confessed to me that he’s a serial killer? How am I ever supposed to accept anything you’re telling me is the truth?” Will stood and began pacing the room like a caged animal. “I can’t trust you not to drug me if I disagree with what you are doing. There is nothing that you can say that will convince me that your intentions towards me were anything but opportunistic.” Hannibal flinched as if struck. They were silent for long minutes while both men absorbed what Will had just said.

“What are my choices, Will?” Hannibal asked, his voice laced with pain and resignation. Will’s heart strained at the sound of his voice. He closed his eyes, steeling himself for the words he knew he needed to speak.

“The way I see it, you’ve already told Beverly what you are. We both share the burden." He paused a moment, regarding the man before him. "You can turn yourself in and save us from carrying the weight of your secret… or you can run. You can kill Freddie and make her your last victim here, or you can let her go with the hope that if you run, she stays quiet. Either way, it’s likely you’ll eventually be outed as the Chesapeake Ripper, either by me or by Lounds.” His heart strained, threatening to break as he got the last of his ultimatum out on the table. “I care deeply for you, Hannibal. I can’t be with you, and you can’t be here. I don’t want to see you hurt, either. I-” A sob rose up in his chest. He fought it down, but it was a near thing. “Part of me wishes I would have never met you. You’ve shattered my orderly world apart, given me something that I will never have again, no matter how long I live.” He raised his hand as Hannibal started to speak. “No. There is nothing you can say that will make this better or easier. This is the only outcome I can live with.” Hannibal watched his face for a long moment,as if testing that this was truly what he meant to say. He closed his eyes tightly, but when they reopened, his own features had formed into a calm mask, effectively hiding his emotional turmoil. Hannibal's eyes cooled as he took a shaky breath. 

“If-” his voice shook. He stopped speaking and took another breath, holding it before releasing it slowly. When he tried again, his voice was as calm and steady as it had been on the day they met. “If this is truly your desire, I understand. I will make the necessary arrangements to take a prolonged emergency trip, negating the need to explain that I am resigning. I shall decide what to do about Miss Lounds while I make the arrangements needed.” Hannibal stood, collecting their glasses. Will watched him warily; the person he had known was gone. The man that stood in Hannibal’s place was every bit the Ripper as Hannibal had proven himself to be; cold, calculating, devoid of emotion. _He fits my profile exactly_ Will thought bitterly. _I just didn’t want to see it because I was too infatuated with him._ Hannibal gestured to the door.

“If there is nothing else, Mr. Graham. I have taken the liberty of collecting your things that were left here in your haste to escape my domicile. I have them waiting for you if you’ll give me but a moment.” Numb, Will nodded. _True to his nature, his speech pattern has changed back to his most formal way of speaking. Obvious signs of distress._ His back straight, Hannibal lead the way to the living room, leaving Will by the door as he deposited their glasses in the kitchen and collected Will’s suitcase from the bedroom. It was heavy with everything Will had left during their brief relationship. Will had no doubt it contained everything Hannibal promised. Panic rose in his chest at the sight. It really is the end.

“You already had my stuff packed.” It came out accusatory, harsher than he meant it to. Will couldn’t bring himself to take it back. Hannibal nodded as he moved past him to the door.

“I did. I anticipated all outcomes of any discussion we may have. It is much easier to unpack things in a home where the owner wishes them to be kept than it is to wait awkwardly while said things are collected. I chose to be prepared, and it seems that was the correct decision.” Will bent to retrieve his shoes, his heart thudding. _Oh, god. Is this really the decision I want to make? Do I really want to leave the man that Io… that I care so deeply for because of his past?_ His entire body was trying to fight him, his fingers clumsy as he tried to tie his laces, dropping one of his shoes as his hands shook. Hannibal watched him struggle before he knelt, taking hold of the shoe Will was forcing, half tied onto his foot. His fingers deftly untied the laces before slipping Will's foot into the shoe, ensuring it was fully encased before tying it for him. He reached for the fallen shoe and began to work to untie the laces as Will struggled for balance, finally finding purchase on Hannibal’s shoulder. He chanced a look into Hannibal’s face and wished he hadn’t; the pain that had returned to his gaze as he concentrated on his task was staggering. Will felt cold and empty, as if his insides had been carved out and ice had been used to fill the space. When his second shoe was tied, Hannibal stood, the movement removing Will’s hand from it’s place on his shoulder, and stepped back. Will swallowed and gripped the handle of his suitcase, his eyes drinking in Hannibal’s features. He had schooled them once again into a visage of quiet if resigned neutrality.

“Well…” Hannibal held out a hand for him to shake. Will hesitated, confused and pained. _A handshake? That’s what we’ve come to, here at the end of what could have been?_ Hesitantly he grasped the proffered hand, his heart thudding hard has Hannibal’s fingers encased his own. The touch was so achingly familiar that he wanted to cry, wanted to fold himself into Hannibal’s arms and release all of his sorrow and tension into the embrace. Instead, the handshake lingered momentarily before Hannibal drew back.

“It was truly a pleasure to know you, Mr. Graham. Should I find anything else belonging to you, I will have it forwarded anonymously once I have vacated the premises. I shall need to be in work next week to give my notice, so you may want to feign your sickness until Wednesday. After that, you will be free of me in every aspect of your life.” He hesitated, drawing in a shaking breath before continuing. “I will use this weekend to make my decision about my guest. You need not worry either way. I will no longer involve you in my affairs.” His voice cracked as the last words escaped him, the sound hollow and broken. Will opened his mouth to speak but Hannibal waved him off. “I believe you have had your chance to speak as much as you were going to this evening, and I can say with complete honesty that my heart can take no more. Kindly leave.”

“Hannibal-"

“Leave. Please.” The please was barely a whisper. Will wheeled his suitcase out of the house, stopping to collapse the handle and pick it up. He turned back to the open front door, wanting just one more glance at the only man who had ever had a chance of being his world, the man who had kept him safe and brought him back when he got lost. As he turned, he heard the door click quietly closed, the sound of finality deafening in his ears. Numb, Will picked up his suitcase and made his way carefully down the drive to his car. After loading the suitcase into the back, he climbed into the driver’s seat, but didn’t turn on the engine. Pulling out his phone, he thumbed through to Hannibal’s contact information, ignoring the words of endearment that preceded his current text. He typed in his message and pressed send, waiting for the delivered bubble to arrive. When it didn’t, he tried another text before realizing that his messages would no longer go through. Hannibal had been thorough and had blocked his number before he left the house. Will’s heart broke as the sob ripped its way from his throat. He blinked the tears from his eyes, letting them track down his cheeks as he started the engine and backed carefully out of the drive. As he left Hannibal’s home, he tried very hard not to look back in search of a figure at the window. When he gave in and glanced in his rear view mirror, a worse sight than he could have anticipated greeted his weary eyes. The lights were all extinguished. It appeared that nobody lived there at all.

***

Hannibal closed the door and sighed, drawing deep breath after deep breath into his lungs. Breathing hurt. Feeling hurt. His heart ached, feeling as if it was collapsing in his chest. He sagged against door for a moment, waiting for the worst of the staggering, consuming pain to fade. _Will. I don’t want you to be gone. If only you had trusted me. If only…_ The devastating emotions threatened to overwhelm him as Hannibal tried to regain his breath. He stopped fighting and let the feeling fill him, knowing he wouldn't be able to move past without moving through. Long painful minutes later, when he had some semblance of control, he locked the door and moved through the house, turning off all of the lights to the main rooms before making his way to the bedroom. Ignoring the bed, he moved through to the closet where he took down the box containing Will’s mask. He removed the lid and stared at the leather work, his mind swept away to the night it had graced Will’s features as they danced. He held the leather to his face for a moment, finding amongst the strong scent of leather the light, clean smell of Will’s aftershave. The scent make his heart ache. He nestled the mask back in its box, his fingers unconsciously tracing the tooling as memories stirred of the tailor’s shop as Will stepped through the curtain of the dressing room, the way his cerulean eyes danced in the candlelight as they ate and talked, the countless moments of intimacy they shared in such a small stretch of time. His heart squeezed tightly at the memories, once again making it difficult to breathe. He placed the lid back on the top of the box before turning the light off in the closet, taking it with him.

He moved through the darkened house, opening the door to the study and closing it firmly behind him, needing the security of confinement in the vast quiet of the house. He leaned against the door, breathing hard, willing the distress to dissipate as tears slipped silently down his cheeks. He wiped them away angrily, trying to find within himself some fragment of control, but all he could do was feel the pain of losing the man who had turned his world upside down. Before he could let it engulf him, he pushed the loss from his mind as forcefully as he could. He still had work to do. Ignoring the firelight, he walked purposefully to his desk, the familiar anchor of his profession helping to ground him. Taking a seat, he set the box down and opened the top left drawer of the desk. Removing a sheaf of stationary, he reached for his Mont Blanc and began to write. 

The fire had burned low before he stopped, his hand aching from his efforts. He didn’t bother to read the words in the fear that he would try to edit what he said. He folded the letter and retrieved an envelope, sliding the thick cream pages inside as he folded the top closed. He reached for his seal and the blood red wax that was the signature color of the Lecter crest and heated the spoon that would allow the wax to melt. He sealed the envelope, ensuring it was cool to the touch before depositing the letter into the box. He rubbed his eyes, suddenly tired to the bone, but sure he wouldn’t be able to sleep. _I may as well try. There is no escape in consciousness_. He left the box where it sat and extinguished his desk lamp before making his way to the bedroom. He fell into bed still in his lounge wear, not wanting to feel the familiar sensation of the sheets on his bare skin when Will wasn’t there with him. Feeling weak but unable to stop himself, he stole the pillow from Will’s side of the bed, ignoring the ache in his heart when the familiar scent surrounded him. He buried his face in the pillow, losing himself in the memories of the man whose scent clung more enticingly than any perfume. _It’s only for a few more days. I can have this for a few more days._ Clinging to the pillow, Hannibal fell into a fitful sleep filled with half imaginings of a world where Will had accepted what he tried to offer instead of carving his heart out and serving it to him on a platter. The dreams hardly hurt at all.

***

Will walked slowly up his drive, watching as his dogs fought playfully, chasing one another along the road. As he came up to the porch, he noted with a lurch the box that had appeared since their walk. He picked it up, heart pounding in his chest, trying not to remember the last time this had happened. When he brought it inside and opened it, he found it contained his mask and a thick envelope. He closed the lid without opening the letter, the pain welling up in his throat as he struggled to fight it down. Taking the box to his bedroom, he cleared a spot on the closet shelf and placed it reverently, making sure it wouldn’t be seen from the bed. The task completed, he left the bedroom to find something to eat, not that he would be able to eat much. He felt lost, listless, completely off balance. Beverly had called several times, but he couldn’t bring himself to answer the phone and face her wrath. He couldn’t bear the thought that he had failed so spectacularly and let go of the only person that had ever meant something to him, regardless of what it might cost him. _It was the right thing to do, no matter how much it hurts._ No longer hungry, Will walked slowly back to the bedroom to lay down. He pulled the covers up to his chin and closed his eyes as tears leaked silently down his cheeks. _It doesn’t matter. He’s going to be gone soon enough._

* * *

“Will! Hey Will, wait up!” Will sighed and stopped, waiting for Beverly to catch up. He had managed to avoid her calls while he wasn’t at the office until she eventually respected his need for space and had stopped trying to reach out. _Maybe she got into contact with_ …he shook his head. _None of my business._ As she reached him, she threw an arm over his shoulders as they walked towards his office.

“You still look under the weather. Are you sure you’re feeling well enough to be back?” He nodded, his mind still so tired, he couldn’t find the words to explain how he felt. Beverly took a seat in the chair that sat before his desk, putting her feet on top of the oak as he flipped the lights on and walked back behind it to sit and face her. She eyed him with concern, taking in his appearance. His eyes were still glassy and deep smudges had settled below, making them look hollow and bruised. His face was pale and drawn, his hair even more of a mess than usual. The buttons on his shirt had been buttoned incorrectly, misaligning the collar so one end stuck up. Catching her stare, Will lifted the side of his mouth into an attempt at a smile. 

“I’m fine, Beverly. I promise.” She snorted and lowered her feet as she reached across the desk for the buttons on his shirt.

“Like hell you are. You can’t even dress yourself, Graham. Come here and let me fix you.” She rebuttoned the shirt correctly, trying very hard to ignore the obvious stain in the fabric that looked like some kind of wine. He succumbed to her fussing, unaware of the pleasure he took in her care. When she completed her work, she sat back down and propped her feet up, assessing her work from across the desk. “You look marginally better, but you should really make sure your clothes are… um, clean before you put them on,” she said, indicating the stain. Will looked down and groaned. 

“Damn, I thought this one was clean.” He crossed his arms over his desk and lay his head on top, defeated. “Was there something you wanted, Beverly?” he mumbled, the sound muffled by his arms. She eyed him from across the desk, trying to think of a way to bring up what was on her mind. She opened her mouth several times before closing it, sighing. S _ometimes direct is best._

“Where is Hannibal?” Will tensed, lifting his head from his arms.

“Some emergency family thing, right? That’s what Jack-” Beverly slammed her hand onto the arm of her chair, startling them both with the volume of the sound. She held his gaze as she let her anger and worry for them both overtake her, her features tightening.

“Cut the shit, Will. What happened _before_ he left?” Will’s featured closed as he looked away.

“We had a fight. A big one. One we can’t come back from you may say.” Beverly laughed harshly.

“I take it you didn’t take my advice then. Go figure.” She crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat. “Spill, Graham. I’m going to tell Jack to send you home anyway, so you don’t have anywhere to be. What happened?” Will sighed, resigned.

“There isn’t anything I can say that’s going to get me out of this discussion, is there?” She shook her head, her long hair shifting around her shoulders like a living curtain.

“Nope. I can sit here all day. Nothing going on in the lab." Will rubbed his eyes, resigned.

“Fine. He told me about his past, and how his… needs came upon him. It was a very sad and personal story.” He swallowed hard. “I couldn’t accept who he is. I rejected his apology. He shut me out.” His throat tightened as he remembered the haunted, pained look in Hannibal’s eyes as he helped him into his shoes.

“What did you tell him when he laid his heart bare at your feet?” Beverly’s voice was light, but Will could hear the warning beneath the silken tone.

“I don’t think you want the answer to that Beverly.” She snorted and leaned forward.

“Is his leaving your doing?” Will sighed, his heart heavy.

“I’m sure it has to be. It got… bad. The argument... I gave him no sympathy, and told him in no uncertain terms that I rejected him. I thought it was the right thing to do, but... I think… hell, I think I may have broken his heart. The look on his face…” Beverly growled, both hands going to her hair in frustration as she pulled.

“What the hell is wrong with you?" she all but shouted. "Did you even try to take my advice, or did you just think about how much you felt damaged by his need to protect you?”

“It wasn’t-”

“Then explain to me why you look like you haven’t slept in a month and Hannibal isn’t in the office in one of his delightful suits, talking smoothly to patients and supporting you in any way possible? Tell me why you two aren't as blissfully happy as you had been?”

“It was-”

“And,” she growled, “tell me the truth, Will. Is Hannibal gone for good? I’m already extremely displeased that you destroyed someone who loves you all for the sake of something he’s done in the past.”

“He drugged-” Beverly glared until Will backed down, visibly deflating. Her gaze softened as she reached across the table and took his hand.

“We have to fix this, Will. You’re hurting. I can imagine that he is too. Now. Tell me everything.” 

***

Beverly finished the last bite of sushi from her plate before she met Will’s eyes again. He looked exhausted and emotionally wrung out, but marginally better after consuming the food she had brought him from the cafeteria. Taking the containers from his desk, she tossed them in the trash before taking her seat.

“You have to go home and read the letter, Will. He may have removed your ability to contact him, but he’s left you something just as valuable. I’m sure there are words contained within that will help make things clear for you. Perhaps,” she said, reaching for her fortune cookie, “you’ll get closure.” Unwrapping her cookie, she grinned at Will wryly. “Or maybe you’ll come to your senses and let me text him and tell him you’re sorry and that you need him.” Will shook his head as he watched her break the confection to pieces in search of the paper beneath. Reading the fortune, she laughed and held it up so Will could read it.

“ _Everyone feels lucky for having you as a friend_.” He laughed, nodding. “The fortune isn’t wrong. I do feel lucky that you’re my friend. Although,” he said, smirking, “I still think you’re absolutely nuts.” Beverly grinned.

“Go home, Will. Read the letter. Take some time to really think about whether you did the right thing by letting Hannibal leave. Call me if you need anything. Okay?” Will nodded, collecting his keys and coat. Beverly stood and hugged him tightly before pushing him towards the door. “Go,” she said, grinning. “I’ll tell Jack you weren’t ready to come back. He will understand. He’s worried.” Her face softened. “We all are. Go make this right.” Will nodded and turned, making his way out of his office to the garage.

Beverly waited until he was out of sight before removing her phone from her pocket. Thumbing to Hannibal’s name, she typed a quick text, hitting send and waiting for it to show delivered before putting it away.

[03:11PM] _**Hannibal, it’s Beverly. I know you got this message, so don’t ignore me. Will needs you. He’s a mess without you. Please come home.**_

***

Will unlocked his front door and deposited his bag on the floor. He hung his coat and toed off his shoes, leaving them by the door before making his way through his darkened house. The dogs were nowhere to be seen, but Will was home early and they were likely still asleep in the front room where the sun warmed the floors to the most pleasant temperature for their naps, so he didn’t concern himself with it. He moved into the kitchen to pour himself two fingers of whiskey. Taking a small sip, he winced and made his way to the living room where the box containing his mask sat, staring at it for a long time before removing the lid. His mask gleamed dully where it sat amongst the tissue. He steadfastly shut down the instant rush of memories at the sight, instead removing the letter that was nestled next to it. The heavy parchment felt like it held a greater weight than it did, as if a piece of Hannibal’s soul had been attached to it when he placed it in the box. Will poured himself another two fingers of whiskey and sat down on his couch. He carefully broke the seal, pulling the sheaf of papers out with trembling hands. He sighed and steeled himself as he unfolded them, turning on a lamp to read the words contained within.

_My Dearest Will,_

_Perhaps you will choose not to read this letter, but I feel I must take the time to pen it nevertheless. I will know that the words I didn’t speak reached a place where you had access to them, that you were given every opportunity to know my heart._

_I can never express how very sorry I am for my actions, no matter how I felt about what had happened to you at the hands of Freddie Lounds. There will never be a time that I won’t be sorry that it was she that came between us. Perhaps I would have chosen to tell you about my past at some other point, but to have my hand forced was painful and caused me more trauma than you may be able to understand. The memories I shared with you about Mischa’s demise have been buried for so long that having them dragged to the surface unprepared has left me examining things I’ve long since accepted about myself. I do not know whether these examinations will prove to be detrimental, but only time will tell. At least you will not have to deal with the aftermath._

_There was never a point in our association that I wanted more from you than what you gave me. Within moments of hearing you speak, I wanted to help you, to protect you. In time, I wanted to love you for as long as you would have me. I would have cherished you until the end of my days, and even in death I would have sought the comfort of your consciousness. You have found a way of changing me, though I am still uncertain if it is for better or for worse. I will never be quite who I was before I was with you. The word love comes to mind, but it is, in all honesty, incomparable to what I feel for you. Given the chance, you would have been happier and more grounded than you have ever been. I would have ensured your mental and physical wellbeing and done everything in my power to protect you from those who seek to exploit your gifts. I have felt drawn to you from the very beginning, and those feelings have only grown stronger with the short time we spent together._

_To prove my devotion, I have a gift for you._ _Enclosed with this letter, you will find a signed confession, should you find the need to use it. I freed Freddie Lounds two days before I left, asking only that she leave you alone. Should she choose to seek retribution, it will come down on me and not you. She had to promise to leave you be before I let her go, and I trust she is truly afraid enough to heed my warning. You are free of all the secrets I laid upon you, even if I felt they were for your own wellbeing. I will not blame you or hold it against you if you choose to turn me in to Jack. I hope that in time, you will choose to look back on the time we spent together with happy fondness, untainted by how we ended._

_I hope you keep your mask. Let it serve as a reminder of who you are within, and that the person you present to the world isn’t your true self. You may pretend to be a sheep, but we both know that there is a wolf inside of you, Will. My greatest wish is that you allow yourself the opportunity to become who you are meant to be, as powerful and secure as you deserve. Do not let Jack drag you down into the darkness. It has teeth that may sink in to your soul and never let you go._

_While it is likely that we are not destined to meet again, I want you to know that I will forever cherish the time I had in your arms. Nobody has ever made me feel as you did, and I doubt anyone will again. I hope you come to understand how truly unique you are. I will say it only once more, in hopes that you may read these words and understand how I truly feel for you. Should you choose to discard of this letter I will understand, but I hope you read the words at least once beforehand._

_I love you, Will Graham. Please take care of yourself, now that I am now longer capable._

_Faithfully and irrevocably yours,_   
_Hannibal Lecter_

Will trembled as he reread the letter. He unfolded the rest of the sheets, reading through the confession before discarding the sheaf of papers that were not the letter into the fire. He sat on the floor and wept, his tears blurring the words as he clutched it to his chest like a lifeline. In time, he slept, the parchment clasped in his hands, as close to his heart as he could get it.

***

Hours later, Will awoke, stiff, cold and disoriented. Sitting up, he groaned as his back popped back into place. The letter was still clutched in his hand as he reached up to scrub the sleep from his eyes. Carefully, he stood, his knees and back stretching uncomfortably as he undid the damage done by his time on the floor. Tired to the bone, he left the lights off as he moved through the house to his bedroom, closing the door behind him. Still half asleep, he didn’t notice the figure seated on his bed until it was too late. The prongs of the taser hit him in the stomach and he jerked, the letter falling from his hand. As he collapsed helplessly to the floor, he vaguely heard the tap of heels filter through the pain. Freddie Lounds leaned over him, grinning savagely as she held up the needle in her hand.

“God, I never thought you’d make your way in here. I was just about to hunt you down.” Will barely felt the needle plunge into his side as he struggled weakly, fighting against the pain and panic rising up within him. Freddie laughed as she watched his eyes slip closed. As Will went limp before her, she picked up the letter, tucking it into her jacket pocket before tying his hands and feet with the rope she had brought with her.

“I have your precious rabbit,” she murmured under her breath. “Now let’s see if you’ll come running.”


	13. Tightrope

_Grief is just love_   
_With no place to go._   
_-Jamie Anderson_

* * *

  
Hannibal flipped fruitlessly through the band of white noise, wishing he had thought to create a playlist that didn’t remind him of the life he had just left behind. The radio filled with static, catching the faint sounds of a gospel channel, a forcefully cheerful voice begging him to repent his wicked ways before fading back into the white noise that seemed to obliterate any chance of escaping the thoughts roiling up like waves through his mind crashing into the shores of his psyche with the force of a bullet train. His cell had long since lost reception, and he knew from experience that it would not fully reacquire until he was enclosed within the walls of his home, it’s satellite connection giving him a link to the outside world as he relished in the solitude the property provided. He normally found the drive relaxing, the peace of the forest enveloping him as the miles of his journey fell away, working to ground him within himself. This trip, all he saw was a place Will could have been happy; paths he would have loved to traverse with his pack, sights they could have taken in, ghosts of the conversations he wanted to have about anything and nothing as Will’s eyes shown with happiness. The wilderness made it impossible to escape the man he had left behind, but this home would give him the respite that Hannibal craved. _That is_ , he thought bitterly, _if these peaceful surroundings don’t become my prison._

Glancing out the window at the mile marker as he passed, he was relieved to see he had only about 20 more minutes of travel before he reached his destination. He was achingly tired and completely drained. His back and legs had long since locked up as he sat behind the wheel, but he didn’t want to stop. He longed to be inside this remote home, surrounded by things that Will had never experienced with him. _Perhaps_ he mused, _it is better that we only lasted a short time. The places he occupies could have encompassed so much more of what I have. It is easy to avoid one space for a time, it is not so easy when there are further surroundings from which I would have to remove myself. Small miracles never cease._ He slowed his car, taking the familiar hidden turn onto the driveway of his property, his heart easing fractionally as the house came into view. The cabin and the surrounding land never failed to soothe his mind; he had come here to escape any possible implications at the height of the search for the Chesapeake Ripper. The house itself was more luxurious than one would think of a traditional cabin, but it was compact enough that the walls made Hannibal feel secure, safe within his fortress while the rest of the world spun madly on. A lake lay about a quarter of a mile up the main path into the woods, it’s crystal clear water fed by a passing stream that bordered the land that made up his boundary line. While he had never had the proclivity for fishing, he knew the lake had plenty of fish in its depths to keep the local fishermen occupied when they came knocking to ask if they could use it. While he rarely refused, he hoped that while staying in the house, he could avoid the majority of those seeking the fruits within the waters.

Hannibal parked a few feet from the wide wooden porch, turning off the engine as he took a slow, quiet breath. Stepping from the car he stretched, feeling his spine loosen from where it had compacted on the drive. He leaned his back against the car and surveyed the darkened windows within the house, inhaling deep breaths of fresh pine air, feeling a knot loosen in his chest. It felt good, soothing to cleanse the city air from his lungs. He moved slowly up the porch to the front door, unlocking it and moving inside. The house was regularly maintained by one of the gentlemen that liked to use the lake, but with the sheets over the furniture and the general air of emptiness, it still didn’t feel like it was ready to be occupied. _Time to change that._ Propping the door open to release some of the stale air, he took his suitcases upstairs to the main bedroom, depositing them on the floor as he worked the lethargy from his limbs. The drive always made him tired, but this particular trip had left him with the full awareness that part of him was missing; it had been left in Wolf Trap in another home, hopefully surrounded by the comfort of his canine companions. His heart ached as he wondered how Will was faring. For his own sanity, he had blocked Will’s phone number, ensuring there would be no way for Hannibal to reach out when he was feeling the loneliness left in the wake of his departure. It hadn’t stopped him from perusing the messages they had previously shared, so often that Hannibal had begun to memorize sections of their text, often seeking those sections out when he needed the comfort that their brief relationship had happened at all. Removing the phone from his pocket, he connected to his WiFi connection and checked his messages. Several from concerned coworkers made his heart squeeze as they wished him a speedy return. Scrolling down the list, he found one from his own psychiatrist. It was unlike her to message him unless an appointment needed to be changed, and he called ahead of time to cancel the next several. _Unavoidable emergency, Bedelia. You see, I’m a fool and I fell in love at long last. Now my heart is broken and I need to escape the ensuing wrath of a woman I should have killed. He sighed and opened the message, his face falling as he read its contents._

[04:53PM] _I saw the pictures posted online from the masquerade with the Bureau. When were you going to tell me about the handsome man you’ve been so obviously courting? This is a far more interesting discussion topic than what is normal for you. Shall we pencil it in for our next session? -BD_

His heart kicked hard in his chest, aching at the memories that swam into his mind. He had known the pictures would surface and cause a stir amongst his friends and colleagues when they did. Hannibal was notoriously single, refusing to date anyone within his social circle for more years than he could count. Over the years, he found that most of the people that took an interest in the things he usually spent his time doing bored him. He found solitude to be a far better companion, as the people of high society had a lack of substance. Will had been the first to break through his barriers in all the years he resided in Baltimore. He walked through them as if they were made of smoke, taking up residence in his mind and heart before Hannibal had understood what was happening to him. Will had been impossible to ignore, the attraction to him so strong that Hannibal had spent many nights awake into the early morning hours, perusing the events of their encounters throughout the day and the possible implications of his inconvenient and ever expanding attraction. He had dissected Will’s appeal in a vain hope of finding and quashing whatever it was about him that drew Hannibal to him like a moth to a brightly burning flame. The longer he spent inspecting the possible reasons behind the attraction, the more inexorably tied to Will he had become. By the end of their first night together Hannibal had been lost, forever changed by the man who had unknowingly stolen his heart. _And now it’s gone. Washed away by a single miscalculation, leaving me in ruin._ Hannibal deleted the message and pocketed his phone before he could find the conversation he and Will had shared. Shaking his head, he set about turning on the lights and uncovering furniture before moving to unpack his clothes in the bedroom. He would still have to make a run into town for supplies, and he didn’t want to be out after dark.

***

The town was small in the way rural America must have been in the 1950s. Part of its appeal was that it was much like taking a peek into a time capsule; there was only one street, shops that filled with smiling people who knew your name before you made it into two or three of them. Hannibal had come to know many of the residents even though he had a tendency to keep to himself when he visited, therefore it was no surprise when the booming voice called out to him as he made his way to the back of the store he was currently perusing. 

“Well hey there, Hannibal! We weren’t expecting you in town for another few months!” The butcher at the town’s only grocery was a jovial man, roughly the size of a semi with a gleaming, shaved head and cold blue eyes giving him a fierce countenance that didn’t match his demeanor. His large hands were expertly cutting steaks from a slab of meat large enough that Hannibal guessed it to be a local elk. Hannibal smiled thinly, eyeing the man across the counter.

“Hello again, Benjamin. I hadn’t expected to be here for some time, but I’ve found myself in need of a little peace and quiet.” Inclining his head towards the man’s work, he asked, “What have you got there?” Benjamin smiled, cleaning his hands on a pristine towel as he moved towards the counter. 

“As usual, you have a good eye for meat,” he said amiably. “Butchering an elk kill for one of the neighborhood families. Caught on the border of your property I believe.” Benjamin’s eyes gleamed as he leaned over the counter conspiratorially. “I’d be happy to package a couple of those steaks for you if you’re in the mood for game.” Hannibal laughed and shook his head.

“And deprive the family that actually killed the animal? I think not.” Benjamin’s broad grin widened as he nodded.

“Just making the offer, as I’m pretty sure ‘close to the Lecter property line’ means on your property. If this were the old days, you’d be able to claim that entire animal for your own. What’s a couple of steaks in comparison?” Hannibal grinned as his eyes perused the counter, inspecting the display.

“Be that as it may, I’m no liege lord. I’m not particularly inclined to take the whole animal from them.” He glanced back at the fresh red meat, his stomach tightening with hunger. “But… as you mentioned it’s likely from my property…” Benjamin laughed. 

“That’s more like it. I’ll grab you a couple of steaks, on the house.” He moved back around to the butchering counter and selected two prime cuts of meat, wrapping them carefully in brown paper before marking them appropriately. “You tell Wendy that you aren’t to be charged for these, you hear?” He waggled his finger at Hannibal’s amused face. “I’ll know if you paid for them, Lecter, so don’t go trying that funny business either. You do plenty of business here during your stays.” Coming back to the counter, his face fell into mock seriousness as he opened the sliding door. “Now, what else can I get you?” 

***

Hannibal unpacked his purchases, placing the elk steaks in the refrigerator so he would remember to use them. He couldn’t help feeling a twinge at the thought of eating game brought, recalling his meal with Will as he did so. He had unconsciously picked the products he would need to recreate the dish they had cooked together, selecting them seemingly at random until he realized what he had done. It had been too late to return the groceries to their proper places; he had been loading everything onto the counter when his mind had suddenly made the painful connection. Although he tried to pay for the steaks, Benjamin had apparently called up to the front counter while he was shopping and his wife, the delightful Wendy, had eyed him with humor, big brown eyes sparkling with mirth as she carefully packed them in with the other meat, ensuring he saw that he wasn’t being charged for them. Hannibal had sighed good naturedly, secretly thankful for the kindness of the shopkeepers when his heart was so fragile. The small acts of normalcy helped to ground him, especially as he realized what he had chosen to purchase. 

Once his groceries were put away, he opened the bottle of red blend he had brought up from the cellar, filling his glass a little more than half full before replacing the cork. He wandered out onto his front porch, glass in hand, and took a seat in the old rocker that had come with the property when he purchased it. While nowhere in the same realm as the aesthetic of the interior of the house, he hadn’t had the heart to throw it out, and so it had kept it’s rightful place on the porch, a gentle reminder of those who had come before. He had found himself grateful for the decision many times in his trips there, but the very sight of it as he took a seat in its familiar contours made his heart ache. _Will would love to sit in a place like this, surrounded by his many dogs. He would have been at home here._ The thought rose unbidden, and at once, he didn’t couldn’t bear the thought of being in the rocker. He stood shakily and went inside, back to the furnishings that were of his own taste. The rocking chair swayed as he made his way inside, the movement slow and haunting as he pictured the profiler sitting within it, his head tilted back, a smile gracing his face and he and Hannibal talked. Tears threatened to overwhelm once more as he closed the door, effectively cutting off the scene his mind unconsciously formed. _Cease this ridiculous fantasizing at once. He will never be yours. It wasn’t meant to be._ Downing his wine, Hannibal made his way up the stairs to his bedroom, closing the door behind him. Numb, he pulled the curtains shut and undressed, crawling into clean, cold sheets, shivering and wishing he’d thought to light the fire. 

His sleep that night was fitful and he woke several times during the night reaching across the bed, his fingers seeking the warmth he had swiftly become accustomed to. Each time he encountered the empty space next to him, his heart cracked a little more. It was well after midnight when the tears started to fall. Exhausted and too weak to fight it, Hannibal finally let himself fall apart. The sobs that wracked his body as he lay curled beneath the sheets didn’t subside for hours; he cried until there was nothing left in him to give. The emptiness lifted marginally and he finally slept on, the pillow on the other side of the bed wrapped in his arms as if he was holding a lover.

***

The following days were filled with carefully orchestrated repetition. Hannibal woke every morning at 6:15AM sharp. Donning his running shoes, he left the house, taking to the path that circled the lake as he cleared the dreams that haunted his sleep from his mind. When he returned to the house, he showered; he hadn’t deviated from his personal hygiene product selection since he left the city, so each scent was achingly familiar as an old sweater and easily recognizable even with his eyes closed, which he did often as he showered to try and block out the memory of hands grasping his skin, a hot mouth exploring him beneath the spray. Once clean, he selected something nondescript from his closet and drawers to cover his skin, the only variance being the colors he chose to pair. Once dressed, he ran a comb through his hair, brushed his teeth and made his way down the stairs to the kitchen where he would force himself to eat something. Two cups of coffee, both black, propelled him through the activities he planned for his days, simple and often laborious tasks to keep his mind and hands occupied. 

The first morning after he arrived, he had been perusing his shed in the late morning sunshine, searching for his gardening tools, intent on cleaning out the back beds for spring planting when the time came. Instead, his eyes fell upon an object he hadn’t been aware of owning: a worn boat that must have belonged to the owner that had also left the rocking chair. He carefully removed it from the rafters and inspected it, letting his fingers trail over the fine wood grain as his mind wandered. _It wouldn’t hurt to restore it. It will keep me occupied for the time being at least._ Abandoning his gardening plans, he inspected the hull for damage. Although the boat was old, it was in surprisingly good shape. A little sanding and a new coat of sealant would ensure she was water worthy. When he got to the motor, he groaned. It was rusted in places, but seemed generally intact. _Those parts will need to soak before I will be able to tell if anything needs to be repaired or replaced._ Sighing, Hannibal set about pulling apart the motor to clean it, focusing on the task he set himself and trying very hard to believe he was rebuilding it for his own use. 

He made his way inside as the sun was sinking low in the sky, muscles aching as he made his way up the stairs to shower. He put together a simple but hearty meal, completing it with a glass of wine from the cellar. His mind was blissfully blank, wiped clean from the manual labor he had performed that day. He had already made significant progress on the boat and would likely finish it before the week was out, just as long as he didn’t need to replace any of the still soaking engine parts. After doing the dishes from his meal, he trudged up the stairs and made his way to the bedroom. Remembering his experience from the night before, he lit the fire before crawling beneath the sheets. He closed his eyes and fell asleep almost instantly, weary from the day. The dreams still came to him, but they took on a fuzzy nonreality that allowed Hannibal to sleep on, even if they still made his heart hurt. 

***

The next few days filled with the same routine until the boat was completed, a coat of sealant gleaming against the wooden grain where it now sat in a place of pride in the shed. He couldn’t bring himself to take it on the water just yet, but the completed act healed something within him he hadn’t realized was hurting. The only problem he was left with is he no longer had something to occupy the hours in which he was awake. Wandering from room to room, coffee in hand, Hannibal tried to focus, but his efforts proved fruitless. As he made his way back into the main space, once again intent on inspecting the flower beds, the piano in the corner caught his eye. He let his gaze settle, thinking. It had been many years since he had played a piano. Although the music was not as clean and sharp as those made by his harpsichord, it would always be his second instrument of choice when the acoustics weren’t fitting for the former. Draining the remainder of his coffee, Hannibal sat down and lifted the cover from the keys, experimentally playing scales as he checked the pitch. _Perfect, as if it knew I would have need of it this trip._

Hannibal closed his eyes and let his hands find the keys, first selecting chords of the classical pieces that he had learned as a child. As he let the music fill him, the melody changed, another composition pushing itself to the forefront of his mind as his fingers picked out the notes. As recognition crashed down into him, he let the music carry him back to the waltz at the masquerade. The melody he played was so close to the composition that played that night that the sound made his heart ache at the memories that filled him. His brow furrowed as he played through it a second time. It would sound better if this was changed to a G chord, make this note flat… He played it back, selecting sections of the melody, experimenting with chord changes as his fingers danced dexterously over the keys. _There. That’s it. This is much better._ He slowed the melody, playing it with the changes he made. The result was hauntingly beautiful. He continued to play as his mind quieted. _This is the song I want to play for you, Will. These are the notes of my heart, the dance we began when we met. We should not be finished. We have so many melodies we could still create._ Hannibal stood and opened the piano bench, removing the blank sheets of music paper he kept hidden beneath. Carefully, he began to pencil in the notes of the song into the spaces provided, wishing in vain that Will was here to listen.

He spent the morning composing, the hours slipping away as the composition came together. The light had shifted from where it streamed into the windows when he surfaced from his focus. He could no longer ignore the ache in his stomach as he realized he had skipped breakfast in lieu of the piano. Rubbing his tired eyes, he glanced at his watch, surprised to find that it was nearing half past four in the afternoon. He set down his pen, and stood, stretching his arms above his head until his back popped. As he headed to the kitchen, his lips curved into a smile. His heart ached a little less, poured into the notes now laid to the pages on the piano. Opening the refrigerator, he removed one of the elk steaks, his mind toying with the idea of recreating the meal they had shared that first night. Perhaps that too, would bring a little healing, finding joy in things he genuinely liked, even if he preferred to share them. Washing his hands, Hannibal picked up his phone, intent on playing one of his many cooking playlists when he realized he had a message waiting for him from a number he he didn’t recognize. Unlocking his phone, he tapped his message icon, reading the words several times as his heart clenched in his chest.

[03:11PM] _**Hannibal, it’s Beverly. I know you got this message, so don’t ignore me. Will needs you. He’s a mess without you. Please come home.**_

Just like that, the careful security of the day crumbled around him. In its wake was the love and despair and longing he had been blocking out, crashing into him full force and leaving him a little breathless. Shaking, he typed back his response, knowing her words couldn’t possibly be true.

[04:14PM] _Hello, Beverly. I am not ignoring you, but I find it odd that you are choosing to interrupt me at such a time. I am away on family business. I am sure that, with time, Will is going to be fine. -HL_

Hannibal watched as the message changed from sent to seen within moments. His stomach clenched tightly as the chat bubble indicating Beverly was typing appeared. _She’s been waiting this entire time._

[04:12PM] _**Holy hell, I had given up on you. Where are you? And don’t lie to me. Will told me everything.**_

He blinked at the words, wondering what Will had actually told her about their argument. He knew in his heart that she didn’t know everything, or she wouldn’t be reaching for him now. 

[04:15PM] _I highly doubt he told you everything, not unless you tied him up and drugged him. -HL_

He paused, considering his words and the woman he knew Beverly to be.

[04:16PM] _You didn’t, did you? -HL_

[04:19PM] _**No, of course I didn’t, not unless you count holding him against his will in his office on his first day back because he misbuttoned his shirt, which coincidentally also contained a giant wine stain on the front. If you DO count those things… still no. I did make him talk to me. His psychiatrist boyfriend seems to have vanished in his time of greatest need.**_

Hannibal pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Beverly was one of the strongest women he had ever had the pleasure of knowing but her need to meddle was beginning to wear thin. As he began to craft a response to put an end to her nonsense, he realized that while he was composing himself, she had sent a link.

[04:21PM] _**Check this out. It’s the pictures from the masquerade. The photographers really liked you two. You’re in almost every photo. While you’re perusing, please tell me those men, the two handsome devils in those pictures do not deserve to be together. Tell me that they aren’t in love. If you can tell me that and mean it, I will concede defeat.**_

Trembling, Hannibal opened the link. At the first image, his heart imploded like a distant star, shattering into dust as he stood helplessly in his kitchen, moving from photo to photo. They had made a very handsome couple that night, Will at ease in a social gathering for the first time in his life, Hannibal handsome and smiling by his side. As Beverly’s next message came through, he closed the link, trembling. _That is who we were together. It is not who we are now._

[04:27PM] _**That’s what I thought. When are you coming home?**_

[04:30PM] _Beverly… even if I wanted to come home, you know very well why I can’t. Will gave me an ultimatum and I chose the path I am currently on. Freddie Lounds was set free before I left. I couldn’t live with the knowledge that I had chosen to set the wheels in motion that caused our relationship to disintegrate. I had to do the right thing, the thing that Will would have chosen. The second I show my face anywhere in that area, she will blow the whistle on who I am and what resides within my home. There will be no escaping the wrath of Jack and the FBI if that happens. -HL_

[04:33PM] _**So you’re telling me that I’m going to lose my bet because Freddie Lounds is walking amongst the living? I refuse to accept that. I honestly can’t believe, nor will I ever understand, why you let her go.**_

Unable to help himself, Hannibal laughed aloud, shaking his head at the text.

[04:35PM] _While you are very funny, it’s more complicated than that, and you know it. It was the thing that Will would have wanted, even if he didn’t want to say it out loud. As he told me, he plays on the side of the light and what I did drags him into the same darkness he tries to defeat. He gave me a choice, Beverly. I made the one I thought would bring him the most peace, even if we can’t have happiness. I gave Freddie her life. I gave Will his freedom from me. He asked me to leave. I cannot bring myself to go against his wishes. -HL_

[04:40PM] _**Will doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground when it comes to emotional connection and stability, Hannibal. I thought you had that figured out, being a psychiatrist and all. I can tell you that losing you is not what he wanted. Its destroying him to realize how close he came to happiness before throwing it away. He has no way of telling you any of this… because like a child, you blocked his number.**_

Hannibal reread the message several times before replying. _She must be mistaken. This is what he asked for, what he wants. The pain will be temporary and he will be better for me leaving._

[04:44PM] _I blocked his number to prevent myself from reaching for him. His inability to do the same is a byproduct of fulfilling his wishes. -HL_

[04:47PM] _**That’s an excuse, and you know it. A poor one at that. God you two are frustrating. I sent Will home to read your letter. He left it in the box, unopened. The only way you’re ever going to fix any of this is to learn how to talk to one another. I’m giving you homework as well, because you both need help. Look through those pictures I sent you. Observe the way that Will is looking at you in every. Single. Photo. Really look at how you two are interacting with one another. The photos tell a love story, one that’s easy to read if you have eyes. Please. I’m begging you on Will’s behalf. You two are going to destroy one of the purest and most beautiful things I have ever witnessed over a misunderstanding. I can’t… I won’t let you do it. Not if I can help it.**_

[04:51PM] _I understand and appreciate what you are trying to do, Beverly. -HL_

[04:56PM] _**_If that’s true, come home. Go to Will’s house, the same way he we_ nt to yours. Beg him on your knees if you have to. Better yet, drag him into his bedroom and talk in a way that you both can understand. If he won’t listen to you words, show him with the rest of you. And before you try it, don’t get all prudish on me, Hannibal. I’ve seen the way he’s walked into work when you two got romantically involved. Sex that good will fix anything wrong between you. In fact, I’d recommend leading with that tactic the next time you two fight.**_

Hannibal felt the heat rise up into his face at her words. Had it really been that obvious? 

[05:01PM] I _highly doubt Will would want me to show up and take him to bed, and whatever you thought you saw, you were mistaken. We only made love once. -HL_

[05:04PM] _**It isn’t just earth shattering sex that made him off balance, although I’m sure you are creative enough to have found other ways of taking care of him. Plus, it doesn’t hurt to try. The bonus is you’re thinking about coming home.**_

[05:06PM] _It is a thought. Nothing more. I make no promises. -HL_

[05:11PM] _**I’m not asking you to promise. I’m asking you to think about it. Will you do me one favor, though? Please don’t say no before you hear me out.**_

[05:14PM] _If I can, I will. -HL_

[05:17PM] _**Oh good. I’m glad to hear you say that. It’s not even hard to do. Unblock Will’s number. You don’t have to let him know you did. I’d be happy to do that for you. But unblock him. Give him the chance to reach for you like you told him he’d always be able to do. Please.**_

[05:19PM] _Fine. I suppose I owe you that much. I will unblock his number. -HL_

[05:22PM] _**…Now?**_

Hannibal snorted as the message popped up on his screen. Tabbing over to his contacts, his heart pounded in his throat as he thumbed in Will’s name and hit Unblock. His heart pulsed gently in his chest at the action. It felt... right, like reconnecting a severed limb.

[05:23PM] _If you insist. It’s done. -HL_

[05:24PM] _**P** ** _erfect_. Send me a picture so I know you actually did it.**_

[05:27PM] [IMG:05641] _You are insufferable. I cannot believe you made me send you proof. -HL_

[05:28PM] _**Hey, you’re the one who was acting like a child. I’m treating you how you’ve proven you need to be treated. I will talk to him. Keep your head up, okay?**_

Hannibal’s eyes prickled with tears as he typed his reply.

[05:30PM] _I don’t know why you’ve chosen to be so invested in our happiness, Beverly, but I’m extremely grateful that you are. -HL_

[05:34PM] _**I got a fortune cookie today that told me everyone appreciates my friendship. I’m taking it with the level of seriousness that it deserves.**_

[05:35PM] _**K** **iddin** **g.** **Kind of. I really did get the fortune cookie, but that isn't why. The real answer? Look through the pictures I sent you. You’ll know exactly why I’m so invested. I told Will what I’m telling you now. What you have is the fairytale that people search for their entire lives and don’t come close to fulfilling. It’s not meant to be the burden of everyone, but you two are the proof that happily ever after exists. Now, start acting like it. I will talk to Will. Please talk to him if he reaches for you. Fair?**_

[05:36PM] _Fair. And Beverly?_

[05:37PM] _**Yes?**_

[05:40PM] _If everything works out the way you’d like, I will pay you whatever the pot comes to for your bet, even if you win. -HL_

[05:43PM] _**You might regret saying that.**_

[05:45PM] _I will not. I do not care about the sum. I will gladly pay it. -HL_

[05:47PM] _**Cook me one of your fancy dozen course meals and we will call it even.**_

[05:48PM] _Deal. -HL_

Hannibal set his phone down, shock coursing through his body. Was any of this possible? Was there a chance, even a small one, that Beverly was right and all that they had been through could be overcome? He didn’t know, but everything in him pulled him back home, back to Will. If there was even the remotest possibility that he was regretting his choices, Freddie Lounds be damned. He had to try.  
For now, he would simply have to wait.  
***  
The meal Hannibal created paled in comparison to the one he ate with Will, but it was rich and satisfying in the way food hadn’t been since before he left. He felt rejuvenated, as if an anvil had been lifted from his soul. He replayed his conversation with Beverly in his head while he cleaned the kitchen, a small seed of hope blossoming in his heart at her encouragement. He sat at the table and reopened the page from the masquerade, pulling up the first photo and studying it before moving down the list. Beverly had been right; it seemed that at least one photographer that night had taken notice of them and followed them throughout the night. A majority of the pictures featured them in some manner. Hannibal could track the progression of the party as he worked his way through, Will slowly opening up to the experience, laughing and joking with the others as Hannibal kept a protective hand around his waist. His heart leapt into his throat as the pictures of their dance graced the screen of his phone. Will’s initial embarrassment at his asking gave way to Hannibal’s surprise, the passion between them slowly became apparent, a display of who they truly were to one another for the whole world to witness. One of the photographers had captured their performance, including a devastatingly clear picture of the kiss they had shared at the end. Hannibal’s lips tingled as he stared at the image, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest. This moment above any and all they had shared had changed him. Gone was the Chesapeake Ripper; his other self had blinked out of existence when he had taken Will into his arms and brought their lips together in the crowded room. In the place of a killer stood a man so in love he had publicly claimed his beloved at a work function, branding them both with the knowledge that they were forever changed moving forward. He couldn’t bring himself to close the image. Instead, caught up in the moment, he saved it as the wallpaper on his phone, closing the feed to study it. _Will. This is not how things between us are meant to end._

Hannibal stared at the photo for another hour, memorizing the look of rapturous joy on Will’s face. He didn’t know when the tears had started, but they no longer hurt. Instead, they washed something ugly and painful from his soul, a pain that had kept him in stasis. He stood on shaking legs and moved slowly up the stairs, the picture still firmly imprinted on the backs of his eyelids as he started the shower. He undressed mechanically, his body doing what it needed to in order for his soul to repair, his thoughts spinning madly. _Will. Will. Will._ The water felt like heaven against his tense muscles and Hannibal swallowed hard, his mind forming the image of how his lover had looked when he tilted his head beneath the spray, the water falling in rivulets down the contours of his body. His hands drifted down his skin as it tightened with need, the sudden ferocity of it taking his breath. He let his fingers trace his skin of his collarbones, the sensation so incredibly good that a small moan escaped his throat before he could bite down on it. The sound echoed in the small space of the shower, ringing along the walls as he skimmed his hands over his stomach, working his body wash along the skin to ease his movements. He could taste Will’s lips on his own, could picture with perfect clarity the contours of his body beneath his hands. Unable to ignore his need, Hannibal let his hands travel lower, his breath catching as he brushed the hardened, sensitive flesh of his cock. It had never felt so incredible to touch himself, but as he slicked his hands with soap, and wrapped his fingers tightly, he knew he wasn’t going to last. The pent up emotions from the last few weeks burned along his skin as he stroked himself from root to tip, collecting the moisture from the head to let it mingle with the slick soap in his hands. His hips began to rock unconsciously as his fingers tightened, the ghost of Will’s whispered encouragement easing through Hannibal’s mind as his orgasm sped towards him. _That's right, love. Show me. Make yourself feel good for me. Give to me._ His balls tightened as his breath came out in ragged gasps, the fingers wrapped around him becoming his lover’s as he whimpered. When the first peak hit, Hannibal’s voice cracked with the force of the sound he made. Wave after blissful wave of pure white feeling rolled over his skin as Hannibal rode out his orgasm, whispering Will’s name as he spent his passion, his eyes closed in contentment. When he could move, he shut the water off and dried his skin before climbing into bed. He slept through the night without dreaming. 

***  
The next morning, Hannibal woke feeling more refreshed than he had since leaving Baltimore. The weight that had been lifted the night before remained blissfully gone, leaving in its place a small thread of hope. It we can make it through this, nothing will separate us again. He unlocked his phone, smiling as the picture of their kiss surfaced once again. A message from Beverly, reminding him to keep his head up, was waiting for him in his messages as he thumbed over to his conversation with Will. He scrolled through their banter, his heart absorbing the thousands of moments they had shown their true feelings for one another, even if the words went unspoken between them. He hoped the letter he left Will provided a balm the same way the texts were helping him. He closed the messages and opened the contact for Bedelia, typing as he padded to his closet for something to wear. On a whim, he attached the picture of their kiss, his heart thudding warmly as he shared it.

[06:58AM] [IMG:04265] _The subject of my relationship with the man in the photograph is not up for discussion, as you should know. Unless, of course, you provide plenty of rose the next time I grace your office. Do make it a decent vintage, or I will give you no details. -HL_

He selected a pair of straight legged jeans and the maroon sweater he knew Will had been intensely fond of, pulling the clothes on as he inspected himself in the mirror. His eyes were still a little tired around the edges, but he looked more himself than he had since he arrived. His hair had dried in a wild disarray, so he made his way to the bathroom to fix it before making his way down to the kitchen for coffee and breakfast. The food tasted better than it had in days, and Hannibal allowed his senses to fill with the scent of freshly ground beans as he prepared his kettle and French press. The first sip was exquisite. Hannibal hummed as he added just a touch of cream, the rich flavor combining with the dark, smooth taste of his caffeine laced ambrosia. Breakfast concluded, he moved back to the piano, intent on completing his composition. He sat down at the piano and studied his notes before he started to play, the new melody filling his heart with more hope and longing than he would have thought himself capable. He changed the pacing marginally, tweaked a dissonant chord, and once again played it through. _Perfect. I hope you hear it one day, darling, as you are it’s muse._

Satisfied with the composition, Hannibal stood, taking the pages with him to ink over the penciled in notes so the melody would be forever immortalized into the paper. As he went in search of his Mont Blanc, his phone began to buzz on the counter. Heart thudding, he picked it up, the familiar number of Beverly Katz appearing on the screen.

“Beverly, to what do I owe-”

“Hannibal? Oh thank god you answered. I already tried about five times to reach you.” Beverly sounded panicked and out of breath, her normal cheerfully forceful demeanor laced with concern. “I can’t find Will.” Hannibal’s heart thudded to a stop in his chest as he absorbed her words. 

“What do you mean you can’t find him?” He could hear her moving swiftly through what he thought must be the lower part of the Bureau towards her own office. He heard a door thud closed, the sound muffled as Beverly struggled to catch her breath.

“Exactly what I said,” she panted. “I went by his house to check on him this morning. The dogs were lethargic, as if they had been tranquilized. I fed them and gave them water. I went through the house. The box containing his mask was by the fireplace, and sections of your letter were in the grate. It looked like a confession. Will burned it.” Hannibal’s heart clenched tightly at the words.

“How do you know he wasn’t just out?” Beverly snorted, her personality still shining through in her worry.

“You remember that I also work for the FBI, right? I know what to look for. His car was still there. No signs of forced entry, but the back door was left unlocked and his spare key in the rock is missing. The bedroom didn’t look slept in either, but I found the cap to a needle. Will doesn’t take any injectable medication, nor is there any medication for his dogs in the house. I am having prints pulled from it now.” The blood in Hannibal’s veins had turned to ice. He stood, frozen as Beverly’s words sank beneath the surface. Will was missing. Gone, leaving his dogs without feeding them, his back door unlocked. The door disturbed him as much as the dogs, knowing from experience Will’s tendency to check and recheck the locks of his home before leaving. _The door. He would have checked the door. He’s in danger._

“Beverly… this question may seem painfully obvious, but did you try calling him?” Beverly’s voice shook as she drew in a breath.  
“I tried to call. It rang through, so I tried to track it. It’s not currently on, and the last place it shows it was used is his own home. Can you think of anyone who would want…” She cursed loudly. “Of course. Hannibal, can you try calling Will’s phone? I have a feeling it might work for you.” Hannibal furrowed his brow as he thought furiously.

“Of course I can try, but why?” 

“Just trust me. Hang up the phone and dial him.” Beverly ended the call. Hannibal thumbed through his contacts, staring at Will’s name for a moment before he dialed. The phone clicked and rang through, once, twice. Hannibal was about to give up when the connection was finally made. No voice came through, but he could hear breathing on the other end. 

“Will? Is everything all right? You gave Beverly a hell of a scare.” Hannibal’s voice shook as the words poured from his mouth, sounding tight and rushed with the panic that was slowly rising as the silence continued on the other end. The breathing sounded like someone sleeping, even and rhythmic. He swallowed hard and tried again. “Will… please. Please tell me you’re okay. I know you no longer wish to associate with me. Please just let me know that you’re okay and I will disappear from your life again.” The breathing continued. For some reason, the sound lifted the hair on the back of Hannibal’s neck. It was too… unaware for it to be coming from the person who had picked up the phone. The prickling increased as a cold, terrifying thought crossed his mind.

“Freddie? Are you there?” He could hear the phone shift around before a harsh, musical laugh came through the line.

“Hello, Hannibal. I was wondering if you were going to figure it out. Will can’t come to the phone right now. He’s sleeping off the tranquilizer I gave him.” She sighed contentedly. “He does sound peaceful though, doesn’t he?” Hannibal’s heart picked up a frightened timpani, cold sweat dripping down his neck as he tried to regain his composure.

“What is the meaning of this, Miss Lounds? We had an understanding that if I freed you, you were to leave Will out of any plans you had for revenge.” He picked up the sharp sound of her heels on stone as she began to pace.

“About that. You’d be utterly shocked to learn that a person would say just about anything to get out of dying, even if it’s complete and utter bullshit. You see, I don’t want Will, not really. But I do want you, back in Baltimore from wherever you disappeared. You don’t get to escape who you are, not that easily.” She took a breath, the sound of her heels pausing as she seemed to stop moving. “Will is fine… for now. But if you want him to stay that way, you’ll come back. You and I need to have a little chat, face to face.”

“How do I know that you won’t harm him?” Freddie laughed harshly, the sound like broken glass grating in his ears as she started to pace once more.

“You don’t. But I can guarantee that if you don’t return and figure out where we are, he won’t stay okay. He may have a problem pulling the trigger, but I can assure you. I do not. You have 24 hours, Hannibal. Figure it out and come to me, or I’ll kill him. You’ll come back to a corpse. Are we clear?” The ice in Hannibal’s veins froze painfully as he responded.

“I will be there. I’m assuming this is somewhere I should know.”

“Intimately. I’d say don’t bring the police, but you can’t, not without showing them who you truly are. Tick tock, Doctor Lecter.” The phone line went dead. Hannibal dialed Beverly, his hands shaking so badly, he almost dropped his phone as he tried to ring her. She answered right away.

“Did you find him?” Hannibal pinched the bridge of his nose, trying very hard to calm the beating rhythm of his heart. _I will not be weak. Not when Will needs me._

“Yes. Freddie has him in the basement in which she was captive." He took a deep, steadying breath, looking about for his keys and coat. "It looks like you got your wish, Beverly. I’m coming home after all.”


	14. Protect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to each and every wonderful and tender heart that I left aching after my last few chapters. I know it's been a ride, trying to wade through the pain. Parts of it were difficult to write, and even more difficult not to edit out. We must go through the bitter to get to the sweet, and I promise you, we are getting to the sweet. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading, leaving me kudos and comments on this story and making my days better with your love and support. I hope you enjoy this chapter, my darlings. It's all for you. And know, even with what happens here... the best is still yet to come. 🤍
> 
> Hearts and body parts,  
> JM

_Love is the sea where_   
_Intellect drowns._   
_-Rumi_

* * *

“He’s not going to come for me, you know.” Will’s voice rose from the table, weak from the tranquilizer Freddie had slipped him. He had woken during their phone call, head aching and mouth dry. He managed to keep silent, listening for any indication that he would make it through this without losing his life. From the sound of Freddie’s side of the conversation, even if Hannibal attempted a rescue, there was no way either of them would be walking away from the experience alive. The best he could do now was to try and throw the reporter off balance and hope to be of help if Hannibal showed. _If only I wasn’t so damn tired_. Freddie turned and met his eyes, smirking as she made her way over to the operating table where he lay strapped down, heels clicking loudly on the tiles. Will’s entire body felt as if was weighed down with bricks; it took a monumental effort to lift his head to watch her approach. He didn’t bother attempting to pull at the restraints. He knew in his bones that he was too weak to both fight her off and escape without suffering a premature death. He could only hope that the narcotic he had been slipped would wear off within a time frame that he could give himself a fighting chance. While Freddie was resourceful, he highly doubted she had the skills to tie him down efficiently if he wasn’t under the influence. Freddie drew close, her red curls falling into Will’s face as she leaned over him, inspecting the obvious lethargy still clinging to him.

“And what,” she said, her voice laced with venom, “makes you think he won’t come to save you, his precious love?” She caressed his face, carding her fingers through his hair as Will attempted to escape her touch.

“I’m not his precious love, Freddie,” Will said bitterly. “Hannibal loves nothing more than he loves himself and his freedom. He will keep away to ensure he’s not captured.” He gazed furiously into the deep brown eyes, inches from his own. “If you were thinking straight, you’d have realized that already.” Freddie smiled and slapped him, hard enough to make his head fuzz with white panic for a moment before his eyes cleared. She reached out and gripped his chin in her hand, tilting his face until their eyes met. The insanity that had so obviously enveloped Freddie was visible in her wild stare. 

“You are important to him, Will. He will try and come for you.” She held up the letter she had confiscated, watching with amusement as shocked recognition etched into Will’s features. “I mean, it’s all in his own words. You didn’t even realize how deeply he felt, did you?” She snorted, turning his face towards her as she continued. “Even I could see it, that night at the restaurant. Only a man in love tries to protect what is his with such a childish ferocity.” Will wracked his brain, trying to pull the memory from his mind through his sleepiness. _He didn’t love me then, did he?_

“I-” he gasped as she squeezed his jaw tight enough to ache.

“Shhh, darling.” The word ‘darling’ eased painfully through Will’s heart like a shard of ice. Only Hannibal had ever used that term with him, and to hear it from Freddie’s lips made his stomach tight with anger. “I don’t want to hear your doubts voiced. I’m sure Hannibal got tired of it too.” She released his face but not his eyes, watching as the emotions roiling beneath his skin began to seep in. She grinned savagely, enjoying his torment. “It’s probably why he left, you know,” she said casually. “You think it’s from the ultimatum you gave him, but I’m sure there was a tiny part of him that was glad to be rid of you. Your constant need for reassurance would become tiresome, even to someone who loved you.” Will gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, listening to her move up the stairs of the house.

“It doesn’t matter why he left, Freddie,” he spat. “Just know he’s not coming back. Nothing in this world could make him return. Not after what I put him through. He’s just as soon let me rot.” Freddie paused to look back at him from the doorway to Hannibal’s basement, her eyes calculatingly cold.

“We will see, won’t we? Until then, try to be good. I don’t want to dose you again, not until the main event. I don’t know how much I gave you last time and I don’t want to accidentally kill you by giving you three shots in a row.” She began to pull the door closed, calling over her shoulder as she did. “No, Will. If you die, it will be deliberate, and will ensure Hannibal loses everything he cares about.” The door slammed closed in her wake, the sound reverberating through the echoing space as Will lay, cold and despairing on the operating table. He closed his eyes and willed away the emotions threatening to overwhelm him, afraid to hope, unable to stop himself.

_Hannibal. Please. If you’re out there… I’m sorry. I don’t need to be saved, but I want you to know how very, very sorry I am. I should have trusted you. I love you. Please, no matter what happens, know that I love you._

***

The lights were on in the house ahead, so warm and inviting it appeared as if nothing was wrong at all. Somehow, Hannibal had not expected that. He pulled into the familiar expanse of Will’s front yard, his heart aching even as his mind raced. The house looked exactly as it had when he had last visited, the night he took Freddie into captivity. There was something peaceful about the place, even with the memories that threatened to overwhelm him. Knowing that Will normally occupied the space made his heart ache, memories of the profiler filling him as if he were a cup, so full he wanted spill over and them consume him. As he killed his engine, Hannibal’s resolve hardened once again. His top priority was ensuring Will’s safety. Whatever else happened would be a direct result of his actions and he’d have to take what was coming. He looked over the sound, his heart thudding loudly in his ears. _Things will just need to be set to rights. This is where he belongs, and I will ensure he makes it back._ He took a deep breath and stepped from the vehicle, eyes widening as the door to the house swung open. Will’s pack came pouring out from the door in a sea of fur to greet him, his spirits lifting as they nosed into his legs and hands. Beverly stood on the porch, casually leaning into the door frame, her arms crossed over her chest as she surveyed the scene.

“Welcome back, Doctor,” she called, amused by the scene. “See, it wasn’t even just us mere humans that missed you.” She stepped lightly from the porch to meet him, stopping to scratch Winston’s ears, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “The pack has obviously accepted you. You were never truly free to go.” Hannibal stroked along the nearest dog’s fur, hoping for a touch of their calm affection. Their eagerness to see him was comforting in a way he hadn’t known he’d want. He eyed the woman wryly as he reached to pet the next dog nosing into his palm.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here Beverly, but your face is a most welcome sight. How did you get into the house?” Beverly grinned, pushing her way past the dogs. She gathered Hannibal into a tight hug. Surprised, he hesitated for a fraction of a second before returning her affection. It was reassuring that she reached for him, even though much of what was currently happening was his fault. He took a moment to breathe and center himself as he hugged her before she released him. She took a step back, eyeing Hannibal critically as her hands brushed down his sweater like a fussing mother.

“Will keeps his spare key in a stupid and very obvious fake rock in his yard. I helped myself.” Hannibal could hear the grin in her words as she surveyed him. “You look like shit, but honestly, better than I thought you would.” Hannibal smiled tiredly, noting the deep patches beneath Beverly’s eyes.

“Will and I apparently share many small things I would not have thought to have in common. And you don’t particularly look to be in peak condition, either.” She laughed and punched Hannibal in the shoulder lightly. 

“Let’s just say I’ll be taking a day for beauty rest after today. Come into the house and let’s go over the plan to get Will back from the wicked bitch of the West.” Hannibal opened his mouth to protest, but the look on Beverly’s face silenced any argument that could have welled up into his conscience. Still, he felt he had to try.

“I don’t know what state of mind she’s in, Beverly. There is a good chance that she will simply try to kill me, or Will. If she sees you there with me, she will think I have given myself up to the mercy of the FBI to try and save Will. She won’t give me the opportunity to do just that.” Beverly gazed into Hannibal’s eyes, lost in thought. 

“Well, there has to be a way to beat her at her own game. We don’t have much time, so let’s get started on a plan. “C’mon,” she said, looping her arm through Hannibal’s as they started towards the front door. “I made coffee and you look like you could use it.” Hannibal groaned in appreciation as they marched up the stairs and into the house, the throng of canines following in their wake.

***

 _Where the fuck is he? Will couldn’t have been right- Hannibal’s got to be coming for him. There’s no way he would just leave him to his fate._ Freddie paced in Hannibal’s kitchen, barely resisting the urge to reach into the cabinets and begin breaking his fine china. She ran her hands through her curls, frustrated. He only had an hour left to show, or she would have to make good on her promise. She didn’t want to take Will’s life before the main event, but if Hannibal truly didn’t show and forced her hand, she would do it on principle. 

A tiny prickle in the back of her mind felt bad for dragging Will into this mess to begin with. She knew just from the ensuing fight that had occurred that he had nothing to do with her capture, and using him as bait after he convinced Hannibal to let her go felt… wrong. Not wrong enough to stop, but it still ate at her a little. She took a deep breath and opened the basement door, making her way down the steps. _Now_ she thought, _all I can do is wait. You think you’re a dragon, Doctor Lecter? Prove it. Come get me before it’s too late for Will._

Will tried very hard not to keep track of the passing hours, but every minute that slipped by seemed to agitate Freddie more, making her wildly unpredictable as she circled upstairs and down like a shark with the scent of blood in the water. He tried to quell his fears, quieting his mind and reaching for the comfort of his memories. Closing his eyes, he retreated into thoughts of the masquerade, let his mind wander to the safety of Hannibal’s arms as they dipped him low in a kiss that stole his breath. He let the memory consume him, not noticing when Freddie once again left the room. Exhausted, safe in the doctor’s arms, he slept.

***

“You are absolutely insane!” Beverly was on her feet, shouting as Will’s dogs ran for cover. “You want me,” she breathed, trying not to let her anger and fear get the better of her, “to tell Jack who you are. You want me, after all you and Will have been through, just let you walk in there by yourself to deal with a woman who wants to kill you, and you want me to bring the FBI raining down on you.” Hannibal waited patiently for her to finish, sipping his coffee while trying not to breathe in deeply every time he took a breath. The house smelled of Will, the scent so achingly familiar it made him want to weep. Every inch of the house had his signature written invisibly upon the surface and he wanted nothing more than to silence the screaming voices in his head and curl up in the bed, surrounded by the sheets that held Will’s scent and sleep off his exhaustion. Draining his cup, he picked up the pot for a refill, knowing sleep may be a long way off. _I cannot think of a respite from the madness, not now. Not until I have the man to whom the sheets belong._

“No,” he soothed. “I want you to tell Jack that Freddie has Will. He will see the inside of my basement, and the rest can be deduced from there.” Beverly crossed her arms, glaring at Hannibal as she began to pace.

“You can’t be serious, Hannibal. Everything you went through to be here, everything you fought for and you’re just going to give up?” Hannibal smiled at the slight tremble in her voice. You really do care about the outcome, don’t you? Clearing his throat, he tried to soothe her nerves.

“I know you don’t like it, Beverly. Lord knows it’s not how I wanted things to turn out, either. You have to understand that I am in love with the man that’s being held captive. Truly and irrevocably in love in a way I didn’t think myself capable. If turning myself in will save him, ensure that he isn’t hurt or held captive a moment longer, I will do it.” Hannibal swallowed audibly. “If anything happens to him, I won’t survive it. I will do what is necessary to ensure his safety.” He took her trembling hands, willing some semblance of calm into his system. He bumped his forehead gently into hers, letting his eyes drift momentarily closed as he spoke. “You know I can’t risk you being there without backup either, Beverly. I would be equally devastated if anything happened to you.” Beverly smiled weakly.

“I’m not your soulmate, Doctor. Will is. I just…” She closed her eyes, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. “I just want you two to have a chance at happiness,” she whispered. On impulse, Hannibal hugged her, kissing the top of her head as he did. 

“Not all stories are meant to have a happy ending. Some don’t ever find someone for whom they feel so strongly. I count myself fortunate in that regard. If this plan saves him, it will all be worth it.” Releasing her from his grasp, he glanced at his watch before picking up his keys. _Just long enough to make Freddie’s nerves rattle. Let her think I’m not going to be there._ As he walked to the door, he turned to offer Beverly to offer her one last smile. “It has been an utter delight knowing you, Beverly Katz. Should things go as I believe they might, please know that I will always think the best of you, no matter what you have to do.” Beverly nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks as she raised a hand in farewell. As he crossed to the yard to his car, he couldn’t help but feeling this may be the last time he would see her. He sent a silent prayer her way, smiling sadly as he started his engine. 

Beverly stared at the car until it was out of sight before tossing back the rest of her coffee and rinsing their cups. She had to give him a little bit of a head start, so he didn't see her when she arrived. _To hell with the right thing,_ she thought. _This is not how I'm going to let you two end._

***

Will’s mind raced as Freddie grew visibly more agitated, the circle she paced growing ever smaller. The time was swiftly passing by, and only minutes remained of the 24 hours Hannibal was given to come find him. Will’s heart beat fiercely in his chest, as if trying to remind him it was there and wanted to remain functioning. Freddie had already threatened to put an end to his life; Will knew that if Hannibal didn’t deliver, she would do just that. Please, he thought. _This is not how our story ends. I don’t want to die like this, not when there is still so much left unsaid between us._ Tears slid down his cheeks as he continued his perusal of the memories of their relationship, every detail coming to him in stark relief as if he was watching his life on film.

 _Will Graham, scourge of the minds of serial killers everywhere, I’d like you to meet…_ He let the excitement of that moment fill his memory, the feeling of Hannibal’s skin encompassing his for the first time, a low, electrifying current that ran through his very soul. He had been branded from that very moment, already on the trajectory to falling for the man whose blood and gold eyes caught his like a rabbit in a snare from the moment they met. 

_I believe if you could let go of being Will Graham, but go as a man there to enjoy himself in the company of others…_ The way Hannibal had looked on that very first day, sleeves rolled up, his eyes gleaming fondly as they ate together. Will was so drawn to every word that fell from the psychiatrist’s lips, his force of personality. Everything he said, all he did… Will just wanted more. He was not so proud to keep the thoughts buried, not now when any breath could be his last. 

_You called me darling. I have never been someone worth a term of endearment, not before you, but I was your darling, if even for a little while._ Tears rolled down the side of his face, pooling in his ears and along his hairline as he let every painful, beautiful memory wash through him; dinners together, laughter, waking up wrapped in Hannibal’s warm embrace, the feel of his mouth on his skin, the taste of his kiss. He opened his soul to that final, horrible look of pain in Hannibal’s eyes when, even after everything Will had said, he still knelt on the ground and tied his shoes for him. He breathed deeply, filling his lungs with sweet, clean air. He had to wonder how many more Freddie was going to allow him before-

“Well. This isn’t exactly how I expected things to play out, Will.” Freddie stalked slowly towards where he lay, tears running down the sides of his face. He could see the gun in her hands, glinting pale in the bright lights above the operating table. He tried very hard to concentrate on his breathing instead of looking at the weapon in her hand as he spoke.

“It doesn’t have to end this way, Freddie. We can come to an understanding, you and me. You don’t have to do this.” The gun clasped in her hands raised, took a deadly aim. Freddie’s hands shook, but the look on her face, the fierce determination etched into her features provided him with all the data he needed. _She would have done this anyway. It was always meant to end here, in the basement of Hannibal’s home. This is her design._

“I don’t have to,” she mused, the gun still pointing. “That much is true. But I very much want to, Will. Hannibal might not be here to save you, but I want him to understand that it is at his hands, his indecision that you died.” She drew close, her hair trailing Will’s face as she leaned down. Her lips drew close to his ear as he struggled against the bonds, his survival instincts kicking in at last. The restraints held fast, even as he struggled his breathing coming in large gasps as he fought. Freddie smiled at his efforts as she began to speak. 

“How does it feel? Knowing in your last moments that you weren’t good enough to save? All the pretty words he wrote and spoke meant nothing in the end. He didn’t really love you, you were just convenient.” Will’s heart, already straining at the seams, shattered in his chest. He took a gasping breath that ended in a sob while Freddie looked on, amusement etched into her features as the gun steadied.

“Just do it,” he begged. “Even animals lead to slaughter don’t have to endure torture before they die.” Freddie grinned and nodded, taking aim.

“You’re right, Will. But animals accept their fate with dignity, so they have that on you.” She put pressure to the trigger, not enough to fire, but enough to steady her aim. “Say hello to the devil for me, love. Tell him I look forward to meeting him.” Will closed his eyes and sucked in a breath, listening to his heart beat frantically in his ribs. _Hannibal. I love you._

As she began to apply pressure, heart beating hard, the lights suddenly went out. Freddie’s breath came out in a sharp gasp as she tried to fight down her panic, but beside her, Will laughed, the sound high and frantic. When the laughter died away and he spoke to her, his voice held a dangerous quality to it that she had never heard in him before. It made her stomach clench as she turned in the small space.

“Looks like you got your wish, Freddie. Ready or not, here he comes.”

***

 _Damn him and all of his stupidity. If he really thinks I’m going to let him die, he’s got another thing coming._ Beverly circled the outside of the house, knowing Hannibal’s words had to be true if she could just find it. Scouring the ground by the large glass windows, she walked carefully, avoiding anything that may snap or crunch. She didn’t know how good the soundproofing on the storm doors she had stumbled across was, and she didn’t want to risk anyone hearing her, just in case. This was her third rotation around the house, so she took it more slowly than her ever waning patience wanted her to. _I could just pick the padlock_ she thought. _It wouldn’t be- oh!_ The fake rock was nestled on the ground amongst the stones that lead to the storm doors set into the side of the house. Picking it up triumphantly, she dusted it off and attempted to pry it open. It wouldn’t budge. She pulled harder, praying nobody could hear her grunts as she worked to open the small protective rock in her grasp. It took a great deal more strength than she thought it would to get the lid off, and as she gave a final tug, the key sprang free and landed somewhere in the shrubbery. Cursing, Beverly got to her knees, searching beneath the foliage for where it had fallen. 

As her fingers closed over the small metal key she almost whooped in triumph, barely catching her celebratory yell before announcing to the world that she was there. Carefully, she extracted the key from where it had fallen before making her way to the front of the house. She had seen Hannibal go inside, and would have to wait until he had time to make sense of what was going on, but she wasn’t going to give him much. _Better the threat be neutralized and they figure out their stuff together than risk one of them getting hurt. Hannibal will still be the hero, and I don’t have to tell Jack what Hannibal is. I’ll call him… after._

Making her way to the barely visible opening, Beverly began working on the lock, her movements slow and precise. The last thing she wanted to do now is give away her position. _Just a little longer, guys. I’ve got you._

***

Freddie pushed her panic aside, refusing to allow herself the weakness, even while trying to hide in the dark. Think, damn it. Think.

“We were beginning to think you weren’t going to show, Hannibal,” she called, hating the tremor in her voice. “Can I call you Hannibal?” She paused, listening for anything that would help him ascertain where he was in the room. “I feel that after all the time you kept me down here, we are on a first name basis.” She took a step back, feeling for the table before her in the perfect darkness. Her fingers brushed against metal and she clung to it, hear heart beating hard in her throat.

“Good evening, Miss Lounds.” The words came from everywhere and nowhere, the pitch black hugging around them as she tried to pinpoint Hannibal’s location. “This was hardly necessary for you and I settle our differences. In fact,” he spoke from across the table, “you have been unspeakably rude. I don’t abide by rudeness.” She took a wild swing but there was only empty air before her. Hannibal circled behind, his eyes as accustomed to the darkness as they were to the light. He sent a silent thank you to his uncle for having him go on long night hunts with Chiyoh when he was younger and watched as Freddie took another wild swing, throwing herself off balance.

“Perhaps not, but it sure made you come running. You see,” she called into the dark, “Will here was beginning to have his doubts on whether you’d show up. I figured you would, though. I read the pathetic letter you left him. You really fell for him, didn’t you?” Hannibal stepped behind her, watching her panic rise as she spun around to face him without realizing what she was doing. He stood and watched her breathe, waiting for her to turn again. As she did, he grabbed her around the neck from behind, effectively putting her in a choke hold. Freddie thrashed as he held on, kicking her heels against the ground as he spoke in her ear.

“Yes. You may think what you like about what we are to one another, but in reality it’s none of your business.” He squeezed harder, relishing in the weak sound of her breathing as she struggled. “It must be very frustrating for you, Miss Lounds. This man, someone you despise for his weaknesses, found someone who is willing to do whatever it takes to ensure his safety and happiness. Yet you, who have allowed your personal life to slip to the wayside in pursuit of your version of the truth, can’t allow him that happiness, not if you yourself cannot find it.” Freddie landed a blow to his leg, hard enough for him to start in surprise and loosen his grasp for a moment. She swung back and caught him in the chest and Hannibal staggered back, catching the edge of the table.

“Don’t try to psychoanalyze my motives, Doctor. We found ourselves here today because you decided to be a vigilante and because I refused to leave your precious Will to the voices in his head. You thought it best to give him the option for retribution. He chose to let me go. I simply took the opportunity for myself instead.” 

“I wish I would have taken Hannibal up on his offer and gutted you, Freddie,” Will spat, his anger getting the best of him. “You don’t deserve a second chance. Hell you didn’t deserve your first.” Hannibal’s heart swelled as the angry words issued forth, giving him a moment to regain his bearings. Freddie had found her gun, and was now pointing it wildly through the room, in search of his location.

“Why, Will has a pair of balls after all!” The gun cracked against Will’s head as she reached the table. His cry of pain lanced through Hannibal’s heart, his gut roiling in anger. The monster inside him welled up from the blackness in the depths of his soul, and for once, he let it come. 

“Freddie,” he growled. “I’m quickly losing patience with you. Strike him again, even accidentally, and I promise you, you will die screaming.” Freddie laughed and raised the gun a second time, but before she could land the blow, Hannibal reached out and grabbed her by the hair, tossing her into the back of the room. He bore down upon her, kicking her gun away as she once again tried to regain her footing. She managed to land a second wild kick to his leg, just hard enough to buckle his knee. As Hannibal fell, she went crawling after the gun. Hannibal scrambled to catch up with her, cursing the pain in his leg where the blow had landed.

Freddie’s hands closed triumphantly around the gun and she spun, pointing wildly in the darkness. Hannibal tackled her to the ground once more and they grappled for the weapon for a moment before she managed to get a decent grip on it again. She turned once more, pressing the weapon directly to his chest, just above his heart. The press stopped his struggles as he lay, panting on the ground beneath her. 

“Goodbye, Hannibal,” she whispered, pressing into the trigger. Hannibal closed his eyes, waiting for the devastating blow of the bullet, but it never came.

She never got the chance to take the shot.

The crackle that issued forth from the taser clasped in Beverly’s hand as its prongs hit Freddie in the back was startling in the dark. The gun fired, the shot going wild as it fell from her hands. It ricocheted off the floor before lodging itself into a light fixture above them, the bulb shattering into musical pieces as it fell. Hannibal’s head dropped back to the ground as he heard Will’s frantic calls from the table.

“Hannibal? Hannibal for the love of god, answer me! Are you all right?” He heard Beverly’s chuckle behind him as she looped a pair of cuffs over Freddie’s ankles and hands, binding her to the ground.

“He’s fine, Will. Calm down over there, would you? You’re going to break something, trying to escape your bondage.” The silence was deafening as Will absorbed this new piece of information. 

“What are you doing here, Beverly?” Will called, his voice shaking.

“Saving your sorry asses is what it looks like,” she said as Hannibal laughed weakly, his heart still attempting to leap from his chest. Beverly grinned down at him as she gripped his arm, helping him stand. “You didn’t really think I was going to let you do this alone, did you?” Hannibal shook his head in disbelief. 

“I would have thought you would have at least alerted Jack as to what is going on,” he murmured, exasperated. “Things could have gone poorly very quickly. By the way,” he added, looking around, “how did you manage to get through?” 

“Oh I used your storm doors. They look like they’ve been out of commission for a while, but it didn’t take too much work to pry them open through the paint. Plus, you told me what I needed to know, Doctor. Your stupid fake rock, the one that matches Will’s. I found it outside and let myself in.” Hannibal smiled in the darkness as Beverly looked around. “Now, ah… do you think you could get some lights on in here? I want to make sure Freddie stays where I put her.” Hannibal nodded and moved to turn on the lights as Beverly took a seat on Freddie’s back, pinning her to the ground. Looking around in the dim light from the door, she spotted where Will lay tied to the table.

“You doing okay, Will?” The humorless laugh that issued forth made her smile.

“If by ‘okay’ you mean am I alive and only mildly traumatized by the entire incident, then yeah, I’m fine. Can someone come let me off the table now, please?” The lights came on in a bright rush, momentarily blinding everyone within the room. Hannibal came down the stairs, moving slowly, favoring his right leg from his fall. He moved to the operating table, careful not to meet Will’s eyes as he unbuckled the restraints. Will couldn’t stop himself from drinking in the tired face, eyes carefully averted as clever fingers moved along his wrists, chest and ankles. The leather came loose with a sigh, and Will flexed his arms, willing some feeling back into them. He tried to sit up, and was immediately caught by the strong hands that had rescued him.

“Slowly, Will. You’re going to be weak, especially if you were not only drugged, but prone for that long. Give yourself a minute before you try and stand.” Hannibal’s hands moved along his wrists, up his arms and across his shoulders, rubbing hard enough that he could feel the blood flow returning. The touch felt so good that it was difficult for Will not to lean in and rest his face against the doctor’s chest, breathe him in. Hannibal slowly removed his hands and moved down to the bottoms of his legs, working his way upward until he came to Will’s knees. Will’s heart thumped painfully in his chest as he willed the other man to meet his gaze, but he kept his eyes firmly on his task.

“Thank you,” Will whispered as Hannibal stepped back. He reached for the hands that had just been on his skin, silently asking for him to stay close. “Thank you for coming back.” Hannibal nodded, resting their foreheads together briefly before moving away. 

“I will always keep you safe and happy if I can, Will. Always. Now, do you think you can stand? We must get Miss Lounds bound to the table and sedated before we call Jack.” Will nodded, pushing himself off the table to stand. While his legs were shaky, they held. Looking over to where Beverly was sitting on Freddie’s back, waving merrily at him, his chest loosened just a little. He glanced back at Hannibal, who was doing everything he could to ensure their eyes didn’t meet. 

“Are you okay?” Will asked quietly. Hannibal’s hands shook, but he nodded, turning back towards Beverly. 

“I am fine. Please help me get her into place on the table. We will need to sedate her for the time being, until I know what we are going to tell Jack about her disappearance. He finally met Will’s worried eyes, his own tired and resigned. “I’m afraid that, despite your wishes, I won’t be able to let her go a second time, Will. I shouldn’t have let her go the first.” Will smiled, reaching for Hannibal’s hand.

“I understand now that my empathy was… misguided at best. Whatever needs to happen, needs to happen.” Hannibal stood with his eyes closed, listening as Will spoke with more hope in his heart than he deserved, nodding his ascent.

“Let’s put Jack on her trail then, so it won’t be a surprise when she turns up missing.” Hannibal walked over to Beverly, helping her stand. Together, the three of them heaved Freddie onto the table and secured her body by the straps that had held Will down only minutes before. Hannibal filled a syringe with tranquilizer, smiling savagely as Freddie watched with rounded eyes, her mouth still trying to work after the jolt of electricity administered by Beverly. Tapping the side of the syringe dramatically, he leaned down to look into her eyes.

“I offered you freedom, Miss Lounds. A chance to go back to who you were, and you didn’t take it. I even left so there would be no trace of me in your realm of existence.” He drew closer, ensuring the needle glinted in the bright operating lights. “You brought this doom upon yourself,” he said, plunging the needle into her arm. “Please understand that when you leave this room, however soon that may be, it will not be alive.” Freddie’s breath came raggedly as her eyes slipped closed. Hannibal capped the syringe and threw it in the receptacle he kept for hazardous waste. _If there was ever a thing that belonged in that bin, it’s anything she dared to touch._ As he turned to leave the room, Will stepped close, rifling through her coat pockets and removing Hannibal’s letter and the key she’d taken from where it usually hung in the corridor. Hannibal looked at him, surprised.

“I wouldn’t have thought to check her, Will. Thank you for remembering.” Will nodded, making his way to the door and out into the house above. 

“She told me she had the letter. I figured she snagged the key. Let’s get out of here, and contact Jack. I’m exhausted, and I’d like to sleep for a century.” The three of them made their way above, Hannibal turning back to survey the scene as he turned the lights out. 

“Sweet dreams, Miss Lounds.” He made his way up to the light and whatever fate awaited him.

***

“So how did you get involved, Beverly?” Beverly sipped the coffee Hannibal had prepared, grateful he remembered how she took it. Hannibal and Will both watched her pensively as she eyed Jack over the rim of her cup.

“I’m the one who sent Will home. When he didn’t answer my calls or my banging on the door, I knew something must have happened.” She shrugged, draining her cup before holding it out in a silent plea for more. “She drugged him, Jack. Brought him here, because she knew this is where Hannibal would seek him. I found them in the living room. She tried to get a shot off. Hannibal managed to kick the gun away. She bolted, but left her gun.” She held up the weapon by the butt, offering it to Jack, who took it gingerly. He turned and eyed the two men who looked like they were about to fall over from the exertion of the fight. Both showed signs of fatigue and lacerations from an obvious altercation. Jack’s heart warmed to see them standing so close together, holding eachother up once again. _As it should be._

“Why was she after you, Will? Why you?” Will opened his eyes a fraction, shrugging as the question made it’s way through the fog in his brain.

“She’s crazy. She’s had it out for me since the Shrike when I got her banned from our scenes, and Hannibal put her in her place on more than one occasion. He was her intended target because of her pride being so painfully wounded, but when she found he was gone, she sought me out to ensure he would come home. I was bound and drugged, left in the middle of Hannibal’s living room while she waited for him to arrive.” He glanced at the man next to him, drinking in his features as he continued. “Hannibal came back. He-” he swallowed audibly. “He saved me, Jack. She was going to kill me, and Hannibal kept her off me. I don’t know how she got away, but she did. I was still so lethargic that I hardly knew what was happening until it was over and he was helping me sit up.” He leaned unconsciously into Hannibal’s side. The doctor snaked and arm around his waist, drawing him close and kissed the top of his head. Jack turned to him, raising an eyebrow in question. Hannibal sighed, knowing Jack was just doing his job, but wanting the interview to be over so they could rest. 

“I was away taking care of a death in the family, Jack. Beverly called me, knowing Will and I have been fighting. She wished to know if I planned on returning and fixing things between us. It was after this conversation that she reached out to let me know that Will was missing. I tried to ring his phone, and she answered.” He glanced at Will unsure if he should say the next part out loud. Sighing, he continued. “She threatened his life. She would kill him if I did not return and take what retribution she felt she had a right to dole out. A life gone is not worth a life I could save, especially not Will’s. I got here just as she was planning to kill him.” He kissed Will’s curls again as the other man sank further into his side, his eyes closed. “I had the idea of turning off the lights to the house. That’s how I surprised her. We fought. I thought I had her subdued, but Miss Lounds is made of far tougher stuff than any of us gave her credit for,” he said bitterly. “She escaped while I was tending to Will.” Jack nodded, concluding his notes.

“I don’t know if you’ll be seeing any more of her, especially if she knows you’ll come to me. I will put out an APB for her, and we will keep an armed agent out by your house for the next couple of weeks. Nothing intrusive, but someone to keep a general eye on the place.” He watched the two men, exhausted as they leaned into one another. He turned to Beverly, who smiled at him brightly over her coffee cup. “Thank god you decided to show up, Beverly. These two would likely be dead without your intervention.” He paused, regarding her as she blushed, looking pleased. “Do you feel safe at home or would you like an escort as well for the next few days?” Beverly grinned, eyeing Jack as she added the last of the coffee to her cup.

“I’ll be fine, Jack. I’m obviously far more capable of taking care of myself than these two,” she said, pointing a thumb playfully over her shoulder. “However…” she said thoughtfully. “Should you choose to send someone, make him one of the cute new ones.” Jack laughed and clapped a hand on her shoulder. He held out a hand to Hannibal, who shook it, a small smile on his lips.

“Glad you’re back, Doctor Lecter. I’m giving you two the rest of this week and next week as emergency leave to get things sorted out and to heal from what happened. I’ll expect you back that Monday, ready to take on the world.” He eyed Will, who had almost falling asleep on Hannibal’s shoulder. “Get him to bed, would you? He’s dead on his feet.” He turned and walked from the house, tucking his pad into jacket as he went. Beverly cleared the coffee cups, putting them in the dishwasher before giving both men a grin.

“This was a great adventure, gentlemen. I believe now is my cue to leave as well. You two have a lot to figure out. Hannibal, can you walk me to the door, please?” Hannibal nodded, reluctantly removing his arm from around Will’s waist, the loss of his warmth making him shiver. Will leaned tiredly into the counter, looking as if he wanted to drop. Beverly smiled as Hannibal came close. “I just want a quick word. I’ll give you right back, I promise.”

“You’d better.” Will said quietly from the kitchen. Hannibal looked back in surprise, meeting Will’s eyes for the first time since their ordeal downstairs. The look in Will’s eyes made his heart ache as Beverly maneuvered him to the door. Turning, she hugged him fiercely, speaking low in his ear.

“You have to finish her this time, Hannibal. No matter what Will wants, she is too dangerous to release back into the world. Do you understand me?” Hannibal sighed and nodded.

“We will have that conversation when we’ve had a little sleep. Miss Lounds will rest comfortably for the next 24 hours before she requires any kind of attention. We will decide what to do at that time.” Beverly nodded against his shoulder, squeezing him before releasing him. Opening the door, she punched him lightly.

“If you need anything, even if it’s just some groceries, please just text me. You two need to take some real time together while you have it, and heal. Don’t waste another moment with the idiocy you were on about.” She walked through the door and got in her car, waving before starting the engine and driving away. Hannibal waved back tiredly before closing the door. Turning back to the kitchen, he walked back, surveying the man leaning against the wall within. His heart ached; he wanted to pull Will into his arms, kiss him, stroke his hair, make the last few weeks disappear as if they had never happened. He wanted these things more than he wanted to breathe, but their connection was so fragile, he knew he couldn't risk it just yet. Instead, as he neared, he placed a hand on Will’s shoulder, rousing the other man from where he dozed against the wall.

“Come with me, Will. You are exhausted and in no state to drive.” Taking his hand, he lead the profiler down the hall, pausing before the spare bedroom door. Will opened his eyes, snorted, and turned back to Hannibal’s room, opening the door and entering without looking back. Bemused, Hannibal followed slowly, closing the door quietly behind him before turning to face the other man. Will was watching him, his features drawn and tired. Hannibal’s heart beat in his throat as he crossed the room, intent on starting the fire. Will stopped him with a hand to his arm, the gentle touch meaning nothing and everything. Hannibal stilled, his eyes searching Will’s face, trying desperately to read what he needed within the startling blue of his eyes. Will licked his lips and Hannibal’s eyes snared, his stomach clenching tightly at the familiarity of the movement. _After all we went through, and I still want you, darling._

“Hannibal-” Will’s voice sounded so tired, it made the doctor’s insides ache just to hear it. Moving forward, Hannibal kissed him gently on the forehead before leading him to bed. He bade him sit before kneeling to remove his shoes. Will snorted quietly.

“What?” Hannibal asked, as he unlaced the second shoe, letting it drop unceremoniously to the carpet.

“Every time something bad happens, you have to help me with my shoes.” Hannibal gave him a small smile as he pulled Will’s socks free, letting them fall where they may. Will’s hands touched his face, tilting his chin to meet his gaze. “Why is it,” he asked, “that you always take such good care of me, even when I don’t deserve it?” Unable to resist, Hannibal nuzzled his face into Will’s palm, relishing his touch. Gently, he kissed his inner wrist before standing. 

“You’ve never been undeserving, regardless of how much you’d like to lay guilt upon your own shoulders. Now,” he said, making his way to the fireplace, “I’m going to start the fire so we don’t freeze in the night. I’m beyond exhausted and I’d very much just like to hold you while we sleep. Everything that is to come can wait until the morning. Agreed?” Will nodded, reaching up to pull his shirt off. The red wine stain glared in the low light, and he looked at it, his eyes aching from his exhaustion. _It seems like so long ago that Beverly sent me home._ He dropped it to the floor before removing his pants, leaving them in a heap next to the bed. Pulling back the covers, he climbed into bed and watched blearily as Hannibal started a fire in the grate. He drank in the long lines of his body, the maroon sweater gleaming against his skin as he stoked the flames. He paused, considering, before deciding he no longer wanted to hold back. _I’m done hiding from what I want, no matter the cost. You’ve shown me what it is to lose you, and I never want to feel that again._

Hannibal closed the screen to the fireplace, satisfied it would burn through the night. Standing, he made his way to the bed. Will’s eyes were warm and sleepy as he watched him cross the room. 

“You know, that sweater has always been my favorite piece of clothing you own,” he said as Hannibal slipped it over his head. His eyes widened as he absorbed the sound of Will’s sleepy voice as it soothed beneath his skin and into his soul, healing a little of the ache their separation had caused. He cleared his throat nervously, hoping to keep this gentle connection between them.

“I shall endeavor to wear it more often for you, then.” Will nodded, yawning as Hannibal removed his pants and climbed into bed next to him. 

“I’d like that. Very much.” Hannibal opened his arms and Will drew closer, folding himself along the doctor’s side, his head on the upper swell of his chest. Hannibal’s heart squeezed as he drew him closer, raking a hand through the unruly curls he had missed so much. He placed a small kiss on his forehead, another between his eyes, and a third on his lips, a bare brush of skin, breathing him in as they settled. Their bodies nestled together as if their intimacy had never ended, as if they would be doing this a year or ten years from now. _A man can hope_ Hannibal thought as he drew Will in closer.

“Hannibal?” Will’s voice rose quietly from the firelight. Hannibal paused for a moment before replying.

“Yes, Will?” Will’s breath ghosted across his face as he reached for Hannibal’s lips, kissing him gently as his hands traced patterns along the doctor’s collarbone. He drew back, studying the warm gaze finally meeting his own without fear.

“I know we have a lot to talk about, but I can’t go another day without this going unsaid between us.” He drew a deep breath, holding Hannibal’s eyes as he let the words in his heart escape into the open at last, feeling the cracks repair themselves a little. “I’m sorry I drove you away. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. I-” he swallowed, the emotion suddenly thick in his throat. “I love you. I love you so much. I can’t live another day not knowing where you are, what you are doing. I don’t know what that means in the wake of what we still have to do, but I won’t ever let you go.” Hannibal’s voice, a quiet, velvety whisper reached his ears, curling around his fragile heart, protecting it as he let the emotions wash through him.

“I love you, too mylimasis. More than anything on this earth. More than my life. Sleep now, in my arms. We will talk again in the morning.”

Hannibal’s lips brushed against his own. They kissed, letting their heartbeats settle into a single rhythm, lulling them to sleep as they calmed in eachother’s presence. As they fell into night’s embrace and the fire burned low, both men healed, just a little. 


	15. Beginnings

_You will never be able to escape_   
_From your heart. So it’s better_   
_To just listen to what it has to say._   
_-Paulo Coelho_

* * *

Will woke early the next morning to an empty bed, the fire blazing warmly in the corner the only thing keeping him from shivering without Hannibal’s warmth. His heart tightened as he recalled the events from the day before and all that would still have to come. _Jesus. Can’t even wake up a little before dredging up all that old shit._ He stretched his arms over his head, waiting until his back popped before rolling out of bed. His clothes from before lay on the ground, looking as unappealing as the coffee grounds from a day old coffee pot. He left them where they were for the time being, making his way unsteadily to the bathroom to shower before facing the idea that none of his belongings now resided within the house. He would have to make his way home to collect his belongings if he was to have anything to wear that wasn’t saturated in bad memories and wine. His head and heart aching, he switched on the light, surprised to find a set of clothing waiting for him, a note resting on top. 

_Good Morning Will,_

_I thought a bit of the familiar might help you steady yourself for the day to come. I couldn’t stand the thought of everything of yours being gone from my home, and so I took the liberty of hanging on to some of your clothing items from your wardrobe. I am now grateful that I did. We can dispose of the clothing you wore throughout your ordeal in any manner of your choosing, although you might find that tossing them into a fire will leave a lingering smell._

_I suspect you’ll want to take a shower before facing the day. I wanted to give you some space, unsure of how much that transpired between us last night was simply residual emotions left over from being rescued. When you have finished, you are welcome to join me in the kitchen. I’m making breakfast. Should I conclude before you do, I will leave you a plate. We do not have to talk about anything just yet. I would rather take some time to allow the worst of our emotions ebb before we make any kind of decisions regarding our guest. I have supplies that will give us the time we need to do so._

_Please, take your time this morning. I will be waiting when you are ready._

_Yours Faithfully,_   
_Hannibal_

The letter made Will smile as he set it aside, rifling through the clothing Hannibal had had the good sense to hang onto. He had never been so grateful to see familiar belongings as he was in that moment. As he examined the doctor’s choices, his eyes snagged upon the blue sweater at the bottom of the pile, the one he had cast aside on his last night in Hannibal’s home. The moisture that gathered in his eyes as he lifted it, hugging the material to his chest, he attributed to the last bit of exhausted relief he told himself he must still have from the events of the past week. It had nothing to do with the fact that Hannibal kept in his possession his favorite article of clothing that Will owned. _Nothing at all._

_***_

Will could smell freshly brewed coffee before he entered the kitchen, the underlying scent of pancakes making his mouth water. He rounded the corner into the bright, open space, unsurprised to find that Hannibal was nowhere in sight. He must have eaten hastily in an effort to avoid me, Will thought. He wasn’t sure if the idea of Hannibal being so considerate was a comfort. He sighed and helped himself to the pancakes, bacon, and fruit he had been left. He expected to find a note, reminding him that the consumption of calories after a traumatic event was completely normal, but no such sentiments could be found. Taking a seat at the bar, Will found instead the paper waiting for him, something mindless to peruse while consuming his meal. He took a look at the headline, his food momentarily forgotten as Freddie Lounds’s face stared back at him, her eyes cold and calculating above the ever present trademark smirk . The words were lost to him as his mind filtered through their conversation below. Will shivered, tossing the paper aside as he tried to consume the meal that had been carefully laid out for him, but he found he was no longer hungry. Frustrated, he stood, emptying his plate into the trash, hoping that Freddie was suffering, at least a little.

After putting the dishes away, he reached for his cell, intending to call Beverly for a ride back to his own house. He had just highlighted her contact when the door to the back of the house opened, closing quietly as Hannibal removed his shoes. Heart thudding, Will put the phone down, watching as Hannibal rounded the corner, his hands and arms caked with dirt. Will’s breath caught in his throat, his mind racing through the possibilities for the other man’s appearance. Hannibal paused when he saw Will at the counter, his eyes wary as he moved into the kitchen, giving Will’s stool a wide berth.

“Good morning,” the doctor husked, his voice low in his throat. The sound raked through Will’s senses as his mind unhelpfully conjured other scenarios in which the doctor’s voice had sounded like that. _Just stop. We may not get there again and there is no reason to make it harder on yourself._ He smiled tentatively as Hannibal turned the water on in the faucet, washing the dirt from his hands.

“Morning,” he said, trying to keep his voice even. “You were up early.” Hannibal nodded, drying his hands before meeting Will’s eyes. 

“I was out tending to the garden in the back,” he murmured. “Compost to be buried for the herbs and tomatoes.” Will nodded absentmindedly, wondering what kind of compost he had when he had been somewhere else all week. Hannibal snorted, reading the look on his face. “I didn’t kill Freddie Lounds, Will. Nor would I bury her body in my garden. I fear she would make the herbs bitter, or worse, poisonous.” Will smiled into his coffee cup, relief and regret mingling tightly in his stomach. _He hasn’t killed her yet._ Hannibal watched him drink with careful eyes before sighing and moving off towards the bedroom.

“I’m going to take a shower. I got far dirtier than I expected to this morning. I believe we will need to discuss our next move when I return.” Will nodded, numb, as he watched the doctor retreat. He refilled his coffee, taking it and his phone to the couch where he collapsed, tabbing back to Beverly’s contact. Opening their texts, he glanced through her increasingly frantic messages when he had disappeared, his stomach clenching tightly. _I don’t know why she chooses to associate with us, knowing what we put her through._ He tapped out a new message, hoping she had deleted the old string so she didn’t have to look at it.

[08:14AM] **Hey Beverly. Just wanted to check in and see how you’re holding up. WG**

His message was seen almost immediately, the chat bubble popping up lifting his spirits.

[08:16AM] _**Will! What a pleasant surprise! I figured you’d be asleep most of the day, not that I blame you. Glad to see you’re up and about after yesterday. How are you and Hannibal holding up? Everything going okay?**_

Will swallowed, his throat tight as he tried to figure out how to word his doubts to her. I have to talk to someone and I can’t think of anyone better to listen than her.

[08:19AM] **I’m fine, I think. Hannibal seems okay too, although you’d have to ask him. WG**

Taking a deep breath, he sent another message phrasing his question carefully.

[08:20AM] **I was actually hoping we could talk. Do you mind giving me a ride to my house so I can collect some of my things? I want to have my stuff back where it belongs, but I need a little breathing room right now. WG**

He took a drink of his coffee, wincing at the bitterness as he braced himself for the onslaught. The ping of his phone made him jump when it finally came, but the message surprised him.

[08:32AM] _**Sure thing. I’d like to talk to you, too. That should give us plenty of time. You’re not going to run away from Hannibal again, though. Right?**_

He snorted, supposing he couldn’t have asked for a more diplomatic response than the one she provided. _Lucky she didn’t just tear my throat out when I told her I need to get away from him for a while._

[08:33AM] **Not running away. I want my stuff here so I can be here. With him. But I need a little time to think away from where I was held captive for a few. WG**

[08:35AM] _**En route to you now. Should be ten minutes. Can you make coffee? And tell Hannibal I’m on my way so I don’t surprise him.**_

Will sighed with relief, texting his ascent before starting a new pot of coffee. He made his way to the bedroom, knocking on the bathroom door before entering.

“Hannibal?” he called through the thick fog that had accumulated in the damp space. The lights were off, but the dim light from the skylight was enough for his eyes to snag on the form in the shower. Will’s breath caught in his throat as desire pounded its way through his system. Before him, obscured only by the fog, Hannibal stood beneath the stream, his head tilted back as the water poured down his body, turning his skin pink with the heat. He looked like a fallen angel, sent specifically to tempt Will away from the righteous path. _It would work, without a doubt._ Will’s eyes hungrily took in the long column of throat, the slick helmet of silver and gold hair turned wheat colored in the moisture, the delightful planes of Hannibal’s torso before he tore his eyes away, heat rushing into his face. He took a steadying breath, keeping his eyes averted as he tried again.

“Hannibal,” he called, projecting his voice in the echoing space. Hannibal turned, leaning through the space until their eyes met. Will steadfastly kept his eyes on the doctor’s face as he spoke, trying to quell the burning desire coursing through his veins. _Get a grip, damn it._

“Yes?” Hannibal inquired, his voice deep with relaxation. Will’s cock twitched in interest, much to his embarrassed dismay. Running a hand through his curls, he lowered his eyes, trying to bring himself back under control.

“Uh…I just wanted to let you know that Beverly is on her way over.” The words spilled out in a rush, his voice breaking with his need. Hannibal’s eyes drifted down Will’s body slowly as he nodded.

“For what reason is she gracing us with her presence so early this morning?” Will flushed, embarrassed that he was running away when Hannibal was going out of his way to help him be at ease.

“I asked her to,” he said, his voice still breathy. “I need to pick up my stuff from my house, and I wanted to talk to her about…” Hannibal just nodded without speaking, ducking his head back beneath the stream. Will’s heart squeezed with distress, realizing in that moment that he could have just asked Hannibal to take him. He took an unconscious step into the room, his foot catching on the edge of Hannibal’s discarded clothing. His mind supplied him with memories of shedding his own to join the man in the shower, pressing him against the cold tiles as he devoured his mouth like a starving animal. Hannibal steadfastly remained beneath the stream, rinsing his hair for far longer than he needed to. Trembling, Will turned on his heel and left the room before he could act on his impulses. 

***

“Hey Will! Great to see you looking like you belong amongst the living!” Beverly pulled Will into a hug as she moved into the house, the door closing quietly behind her. Turning, she brushed her hair back from her face as she eyed him critically. “You look like you got some sleep at least. Love that sweater, too. It brings out your eyes.” Will nodded, unsure of what to say. He had slept, and slept well, in the arms of the man that he was currently avoiding… or who was avoiding him. Unaware of his tension, Beverly clapped him on the shoulder before moving towards the kitchen.

“Did you make any coffee?” she asked hopefully. Will laughed and nodded, moving ahead of her to pour her a cup. Hannibal was already there, setting out the cream as they approached. His hair hung in damp strands around his face as he looked up, smiling at Beverly. He wore a dark grey sweater and jeans, looking almost as enticing as he did in the shower. Beverly bumped into his back as he flushed, realizing he had stopped to stare. Leaning in she whispered to him, gripping his arm to propel them forward.

“Just breathe, Will,” she said playfully. “Before you pass out.” Smirking, she moved to take the cup Hannibal was holding out to her, thanking him with a hug.

“You guys look much better,” she announced as she mixed her coffee. Hannibal met Will’s eyes for the briefest moment, looking down as he replied.

“We slept well,” he said, his voice as liquidly relaxed and low as it had been in the shower. Will flushed as he nodded, taking a seat at the counter. Beverly joined him, snagging one of the remaining slices of bacon Will had forgotten to put away, crunching happily as she eyed them over her coffee cup. 

“Good. You have a lot to fix before you can move forward and I have a great idea on how. Hannibal was telling me,” she said, swiveling her stool to look at Will, “that he has a cabin about a half day’s drive from here. I believe you’d both benefit from taking a break from this house to spend some time together.” Will opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by a raise of Beverly’s hand.

“I know, I know. You have a guest that needs to be taken care of. I’m sure Hannibal has a way of keeping her sedated with an IV for a couple of days. Nutrition can be supplied in the same manner.” Hannibal nodded thoughtfully.

“I had thought to make the suggestion this morning,” he said reluctantly, glancing in Will’s direction. “I wasn’t sure how such an invitation would be received.” Beverly beamed before turning to Will. 

“You already said you wanted to pick up your stuff. It’s packed in your bag still, right?” Will nodded slowly, his mind racing. _A vacation? Now?_ It felt wrong to leave Freddie below, but a break from the house would be most welcome. 

“Great,” she said, sliding off her stool. “Hannibal can make preparations for your guest while you and I retrieve it. We can call Jack to let him know you guys won’t be here for the next few days so he can lift your security detail. I’m sure he’ll be glad to know you’re going away. More bodies to put on the hunt for Freddie.” Downing her coffee, she set the mug down, moving towards the door. Will glanced at Hannibal before following her.

“Are you okay with this?” Hannibal nodded, offering a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Like I said, I was planning to make the offer when we finally had a chance to talk,” he said as he looked away. “It will be best for us not to be here until we know what we are going to do. Some time away from the… problem will likely bring clarity.” Will nodded, turning to leave.

“Will?” Hannibal’s voice called him back. He turned, meeting the nervous maroon gaze staring back at him. Hannibal’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. He took a deep breath, closing his mouth and gesturing towards the door. “Drive safely, please.” Will held his eyes for a moment, the weight of everything he wanted to say sitting in his throat. It’s just too soon. It will come. It has to.

“I will. We won’t be long.” He turned and moved to where Beverly was waiting, the door closing quietly behind him as Hannibal picked up the coffee cup Beverly had used. As he washed it, he closed his eyes, sending out the unspoken words to Will as he heard the car pull out and make its way down the drive. _I love you. I love you, without measure. Please come back to me._ He hung the drying towel over the rack before making his way to the basement stairs to set up the accommodations Freddie would need for the next few days.

***

“So… what did you want to talk to me about?” Beverly’s words filtered through the jumble of Will’s thoughts as he stared out the window, taking in the familiar sights on the way to his own home. 

“I-” he started. Unsure of how to continue, he closed his eyes, trying to find a way to explain how he was feeling. _What am I feeling, exactly?_ “I don’t know how to put it into words,” he said, lamely. Beverly glanced at where he had slumped into his seat, staring out the window and seeing nothing. She took his hand, gripping it tightly as she signaled her turn onto his driveway.

“You don’t have to heal from this all at once, you know,” she said, eerily reading part of his thoughts. “This isn’t a one stop and it’s fixed kind of thing. You and Hannibal will have a lot to work out over the next few days.” She glanced at him as they made their way up the drive, his house coming into view. The sight of his home brought a rush of unexpected relief. It was nice to see something familiar, grounding, even if he had been kidnapped from it.

“I love him, Beverly,” he blurted. “I want… I want to love him. I just- I don’t know how.” Beverly squeezed his hand as she put the car in park. Turning in her seat, she took his other hand. 

“Love takes time. The foundation is already there, you just have to let yourself build upon it. I know that what he is and what he’s done will take a lot of time to get used to. I’m still wrapping my head around it when I let myself think on it. It’s more important that you focus on what is, who he is, rather than what was. He loves you. He drove from his cabin the second he heard you might be in danger. There was no question, no compromise in his mind. He loves you so much, he came for you when you were in danger. Let him love you, and the rest will come.” Will nodded, trying to take in what she said.

“I don’t know-”

“Stop.” Will closed his mouth, meeting her glare. “Stop doing this to yourself, and to him. Stop thinking so much and just feel it, for fucks sake. You can’t go back. You can only move forward.” Beverly opened the car door, gesturing for him to do the same.

“Just give both of you some time,” she said, putting an arm around his shoulders as she navigated them up the porch steps. “Let’s get your stuff and get you back to the house. I’ll come back and take care of your dogs.” Will nodded, his throat tight. Beverly opened the door with his spare key, laughing delightedly as the dogs spilled out onto the porch to greet them. 

Leaving her occupied with his furry companions, Will made his way through the house, stopping outside his bedroom door. He paused, taking a deep breath as he pushed the door open. His room looked no different; sheets disheveled from the last time he slept in them, clothing strewn across the floor. It felt… off, as if it had been tainted by what had transpired there. Not wanting to linger, he vowed silently to clean the place thoroughly when he returned home. He moved quickly through the space and gripped his bag, not needing to check for anything. Hannibal had packed everything he owned, minus the clothing he currently donned, so he was fully prepared for the trip they were going to take. Unsure why, he paused, glancing at his closet. He set his bag down on the bed and retrieved the box containing his mask from where it sat on the shelf, carefully removing the lid to glance down at it. The sight tightened his stomach, bringing his heart to his throat as he recalled the memories he had stored in the back of his mind, the night he spent with it gracing his features. He couldn’t think of of it, not just then, but the sight gave him hope. Unable to leave it behind, he replaced the cover and tucked it under his arm before retrieving his bag. He didn’t look back when he closed the bedroom door.

Beverly raised an eyebrow when she saw the box, but didn’t comment. She stood from her place on the floor, her face shiny with what Will could only assume was affection delivered by his dogs. Will helped her stand, glancing around a house that no longer felt like home. Together, they made their way back to the car, closing the door on the horrors Freddie Lounds had introduced into his sanctuary. The drove off, the unease lessening with each mile they put between him and his home. Will closed his eyes and leaned back into the seat, the mask clutched in his hands as they made their way back to the only place he now considered home.

***

Hannibal was in the kitchen when they returned. Without a word, Will took the mask to the bedroom and placed it in its rightful place in the closet, on top of the box that contained Hannibal’s stag mask. The sight of the two reunited brought his heart to his throat, tears stinging his eyes. _Jesus, I need to get my emotions under control today, or I’m never going to survive the day._ He turned and made his way back to the kitchen, slowing as he heard low voices drifting back to where he stood.

“How is he really?” Hannibal asked, his voice laced with concern.

“He’s going to be fine with you at his side,” Beverly murmured. “You two just need to find a way to talk to one another, that’s all.” 

“I don’t know if he will be able to forgive me, now that he’s out of danger.” Hannibal sounded exhausted despite waking only hours previously. Will’s heart squeezed, realizing he was concerned for what was going to happen. _His worry is my fault._

“He’s already forgiven you. He just needs to be reminded of what it is to be around you. Give him that for the next few days. No difficult questions. Nothing but patience and love.” Will knew Beverly was hugging Hannibal without having to witness. The thought brought a fond smile to his face. “You two will be fine. I’ve got everything else under control. If you need anything, let me know.” 

Will rounded the corner as they broke apart. Beverly smiled and pulled him in, hugging them both fiercely. 

“Your bag is still in my car. You two should get going so you can make it there by nightfall. I’ve already texted Jack, so no worries there. He’s lifted your security detail until you return, but I’ll be monitoring the house and it’s parasite for you.” Will nodded, grateful. The three of them made their way to the door, Hannibal locking up as Will collected his bag. As he tossed it in the trunk, he was surprised to see that Hannibal hadn’t packed a thing.

“Aren’t you planning on changing clothes while we are gone?” he asked, meeting the doctor’s amused eyes. 

“You’ve forgotten that I abandoned my self imposed isolation to come to your rescue,” he said. Will flushed, embarrassed.

“I forgot that’s where you were at the time. You left all of your stuff?” Hannibal nodded.

“I wanted to get here as quickly as possible. I’ll be surprised if I remembered to lock the door.” Will’s pulse sped, his stomach tingling as the words eased through his mind, their meaning clear. _I wanted to be there for you, no matter what the cost._ His legs trembled as he climbed into the car, grateful to be sitting. They watched as Beverly drove away, waving as she made her way down the driveway. Hannibal started the car, putting it into gear as he followed her. She waved once again before taking the road in the opposite direction in which they were headed. 

Will glanced out the window, the air in the car suddenly charged with all that lay unspoken between them. Hannibal reached down and turned on the radio. Quiet music filtered into Will’s consciousness, relaxing him into the drive now that he was no longer being pressured to speak. They let the silence stretch between them as they made their way down the road. Less than an hour in, Will fell asleep, his head falling against the seat in his exhaustion. Hannibal glanced over at him, smiling gently as he turned up the music. _Rest your weary soul, darling. I will protect you while you let me._

***

They arrived at Hannibal’s cabin not long after midnight. The air was colder there, the temperatures already well below what they were experiencing back in Baltimore. Hannibal pulled into the driveway, grateful for the drive to be over. His back and legs had locked up some time after they had stopped for gas 3 hours prior. He unbuckled his seat, glancing over at Will who was staring at the house with wonder. 

“I thought you said this was a cabin,” he said, amused. Hannibal smiled, opening his door so he could stretch his back. Will stepped out of the passenger side, his eyes still on the house before them. 

“It’s the smallest home I own at this time,” Hannibal replied, a tad defensive. “It’s also on land which is often used illegally for hunting big game and contains its own lake. I’d qualify it as a cabin on those grounds alone.” Will laughed as Hannibal popped the trunk, allowing him to gather his bag from its depths. The doctor locked the car and they made their way up the porch, Hannibal’s heart squeezing gently as Will took in the rocking chair sitting on the porch.

“I’m going to take it that,” he said, gesturing to the chair, “was left by the last owner.” Hannibal nodded as he unlocked the front door. _I managed to lock it after all._

“Yes. The previous occupant left a few things. I kept what I wanted, and disposed of the rest.” Will removed his shoes before moving through the house to take the space in as Hannibal turned the lamps. He noted the piano with fondness, his mind supplying him with a vision of Hannibal on another bench, playing the harpsichord with his eyes closed on the first night he had spent with him. He met Hannibal’s gaze as he gestured to his bag.

“Where do you want me to put this?” Hannibal hesitated, his eyes filling with something close to fear. Will’s heart squeezed painfully in his chest as he realized what must be causing the trepidation. “I don’t want to sleep alone,” he murmured, watching as Hannibal’s expression broke into something akin to relief. The doctor gestured to the staircase leading up to the second floor.

“You’ll find the main bedroom through the door on the left,” he replied. “You’re welcome to unpack, if you’d like. I’ll make us something to eat.” Will nodded, taking the stairs two at a time. Making his way down the short hallway, he opened the door to the room Hannibal had indicated, marveling at the beautiful interior. Hannibal had a wonderful eye for decor; the room was all polished wood amidst the greens of the forest. The massive wood and wrought iron bed was unmade, a few of Hannibal’s clothes scattered across the floor. Glancing behind him to ensure he hadn’t been followed, Will picked up the fallen shirt. Feeling weak, he pressed his face to the fabric, breathing in Hannibal’s scent from the collar before tossing it and the rest of the scattered articles of clothing into the laundry basket by the en suite door. He didn’t want the doctor to be embarrassed by the state of the room, and took the time to tidy it before he set about emptying what he would need for the next few days. Depositing a selection of clothing in the closet and an empty drawer, he took his bag of toiletries into the bathroom, removing his razor, aftershave and toothbrush before putting the empty bag back in his carrier. Satisfied, he splashed a little water onto his face, drying it before making his way back down the stairs to find Hannibal.

The scent wafting up the stairs made his stomach clench as he realized they hadn’t eaten since that morning. He made his way through the house, noting the much less ornate furnishings as he moved towards the kitchen. The house still looked like Hannibal; casual and opulent, but it had retained a little of the previous owners as well, giving it a homier feel amidst Hannibal’s possessions. _As if he and I had commingled and produced this place._ Shaking his head to remove the thought, he continued into the kitchen. When he reached it, Will stopped, his heart catching in his throat as he found Hannibal. The doctor was busy at the stove, pristine white apron around his waist as he worked the vegetables in the pan. Resting before him were two thick steaks, their juices settling in the cast iron as the doctor flipped the vegetables a final time, licking his thumb to test the spices before nodding to himself. Will leaned into the wall, unable to take his eyes off the form before him. How many times had the other man cooked for him like this, moving through the space of the kitchen with grace as he plated, working away to ensure they ate something worth putting into their stomachs? How often had Will walked in to find him mid preparation, only to kiss the back of his neck before donning his own apron? Will made a small, involuntary noise of longing as Hannibal turned, startling at his sudden appearance.

“Just in time d- Will,” he said, correcting himself smoothly. Will’s stomach squeezed with a combination of hunger and nervous regret as Hannibal began slicing through the meat, plating it carefully before gesturing to a small door off the kitchen. “Can you please select a bottle of wine from the pantry and open it? You’ll find glasses there as well.” Will nodded, moving carefully around the other man before opening the door. Inside were several bottles of different types and vintages. He selected a red at random, collecting two wineglasses before making his way back into the kitchen. Much to his relief, Hannibal set them up on the counter top, rather than serving them in the dining room. Will wasn’t sure his heart could take a romantic dinner between them with the conversation they needed to have looming above them like an acrid cloud. 

Setting the glasses down, Will hunted through the drawers for a corkscrew, reaching for the bottle he chose as Hannibal picked it up, checking the label. Snorting, the doctor moved back to the pantry, taking the bottle with him. He returned minutes later with a different bottle, handing it to Will, who watched him with wary eyes.

“You chose a bottle that I have been saving for the right occasion,” Hannibal replied to the unspoken question. “This vintage will go much better with what we are eating.” Will didn’t respond, instead uncorking the bottle to pass it to the doctor who closed his eyes, breathing in the scent from the cork. Will tried to remain impassive as memories of their dinner dates welled up around him, this very act achingly familiar. Get a grip. It’s just dinner. We can do this. Hannibal nodded, handing the cork back as the profiler poured them glasses of the deep red liquid, it’s smooth, warm scent raising up around him. He took his seat next to the doctor, turning his attention to the plate before him as he took a small sip from his glass. He groaned in appreciation as the alcohol burst across his tongue, smooth and filled with fig and cherry notes, laced with something deeper and decadent.

“Christ that’s good,” he murmured, eyeing the dish before him. “Thanks for making dinner, too. This looks fantastic.” Hannibal nodded before picking up his fork, spearing a chunk of summer squash. Will watched as the morsel disappeared into the other man’s mouth before taking up his fork. They ate in silence, both men grateful for the peace that surrounded them. Will let his mind drift, wanting desperately to break their silence, but unwilling to disturb the calm that had come over them. Instead, he let it stretch on. _We can talk later, when things aren’t so fresh._ When they had finished, Will picked up the plates, waving Hannibal’s offer to dry off as he instead gestured to the remaining wine.

“Go, relax. I’ll come find you when I’m finished.” Hannibal watched his face but Will kept his eyes on his work. Finally, with a nod, Hannibal topped off their glasses before tossing the bottle in the trash. He made his way to the sitting room, sinking into the couch by the fire as Will carefully washed the dishes, drying them before returning them to their proper places in the cabinets. To his amusement, the kitchen was organized exactly as Hannibal’s other home, so finding where everything went was a breeze. When he could waste no more time, he hung up the towel, drying his hands before making his way to where the other man was seated, staring into the flames as he sipped his wine. Will gingerly took a seat on the other side of the couch, stretching before picking up his glass. Hannibal turned slightly to regard him across the couch, his face impassive. Will took a fortifying sip of wine before meeting the other man’s eyes, his heart thudding in his chest.

“I do not believe it’s wise for us to talk tonight,” Hannibal murmured, taking a small sip from his glass. Will’s heart squeezed painfully as the glass came away, leaving Hannibal’s lips shining in the firelight. He swallowed, nodding as he turned back to the fire.

“You’re probably right. A fresh day will bring more clarity.” He stretched again, watching under his lashes as Hannibal took the movement in hungrily, his eyes raking down Will’s frame. His cheeks flushed from the alcohol they had consumed, Will laid his head back against the cushions, showcasing the long, pale column of his throat. He could feel the doctor’s gaze as he adjusted his position, his heart thumping rapidly. Please. Oh god, please. Hannibal cleared his throat, coming back to himself as he straightened on his end. Picking up his glass, he tipped it back, draining the contents before standing. 

“Forgive me, but I’m rather tired from the drive today. If you don’t mind, I’m going to turn in.” Will nodded, unsure of what to do. Hannibal paused a moment longer before making his way across the house. He turned back at the foot of the stairs, watching as Will leaned forward, placing his head in his hands. “I am going to shower,” he said, his voice as soft as smoke. “You’re welcome to come to bed whenever you are ready. I believe we would both benefit from a good night’s rest.” Will raked his hands through his hair, nodding.

“I’ll be up shortly.” Hannibal inclined his head before making his way up the stairs. Will waited until he heard the shower start before collecting their glasses, washing them carefully and putting them back in the pantry. He checked the lock on the front door then wearily ascended the stairs, opening the door to the scent of Hannibal’s shampoo wafting from the hushed damp of the bathroom. Will closed the bedroom door, noting the trembling in his hands. He made his way tiredly across the room, removing his sweater and slacks as he went. He deposited his socks in the hamper and hung the other articles of clothing before heading into the bathroom. He brushed his teeth quietly, trying to ignore the silhouette moving behind the frosted glass of the shower doors, wanting more than anything to climb into the shower and wrap himself around the enticing shape. Instead, he placed his toothbrush back in the holder and ran the comb through his curls, softening his hair to touchable waves before making his way to the bed. Will flipped back the covers he had straightened, groaning as he climbed inside. The dark green sheets felt cool and soft against his tired body as he curled onto his usual side of the bed without thinking. Closing his eyes, Will let the sound of the shower lull him towards sleep. 

Hannibal emerged from the steam of the shower feeling much better, cleansed from the drive, his muscles relaxed as he padded across the room to deposit his clothes in the hamper. His heart warmed a little when he saw that Will had added his socks to the pile, the sight a small comfort to the discordance of their relationship as of late. The doctor stretched, scratching absentmindedly at his chest as he moved towards the bed. Will was already curled up beneath the covers, his breathing soft and steady as Hannibal slid into bed. He turned on his side, watching the rise and fall of the muscles in Will’s back where he lay facing away from him. He wanted to wrap himself around the other man like a protective shell, holding him until they both drifted, but with the tumultuous rift between them, he didn’t dare. Instead, he relegated himself to his side of the bed, the distance between them less than a foot, but feeling as wide as the Grand Canyon. He stayed as he was, watching Will breathe as he lamented the turn of events that lead them here, unable to adopt Beverly’s optimism. _Maybe we will move past this, enjoy the time we can spend together while we don’t have such a weight on our shoulders_ , he thought. _But that is a slim chance. It is likely the space between us will remain unoccupied, and I will need to come to terms with it._ _Will may have uttered the words, but trauma will make us say all kinds of ridiculous things._ Resigned, Hannibal closed his eyes, drifting to the sound of Will’s untroubled sleep. Eventually, exhausted, he also slept.

***

The shaking woke him with a start. Hannibal blearily sat up in bed, trying to orient himself as the mattress continued to tremble. _Cabin. I’m in the cabin up North. Will is here. Will…_ Hannibal glanced across the bed as he took in the cause of the shaking; Will, trembling hard enough to have woken him from his slumber, was in the throes of what could only be one of his night terrors. The doctor’s heart pounded hard in his chest as he reached out instinctively to help. A cry issued from the profiler’s lips, searing itself into Hannibal’s soul as he gently touched the other man’s sweat slicked shoulder.

“Will,” he tried soothingly. “Will, wake up. You’re having a dream.” The trembling increased as the dream continued, Will lashing out as another cry was torn from his throat. Hannibal’s heart kicked hard. _Something isn’t right. He’s never been violent before._ Hannibal inched closer, shaking Will’s shoulder.

“Will-” he began, his voice tight with anxiety. No results. Without thinking, Hannibal slid across the bed, molding himself to the other man’s back like he wanted to do when he came to bed. Wrapping his arm around Will’s stomach, Hannibal drew him close, whispering into his curls.

“Darling, you’re dreaming. Whatever horrible thing is happening, it’s nothing but a nightmare,” he murmured. “Come back to me, mylimasis. Wake for me. I love you, Will. I need you to come back to me.” He carded his hand through Will’s hair, kissing the back of his neck as he continued to speak, his voice deep and low. The sudden breath gasped painfully through a set of vocal cords that wanted to scream signified Will’s waking, much to Hannibal’s relief. _Finally._ The doctor continued to stroke his hands through the damp curls at the base of Will’s neck as the profiler breathed hard, his body continuing to shake involuntarily. Slowly, inch by excruciating inch, he felt the profiler relax against him, fully awake and aware of his surroundings at last. They breathed together for a moment, Hannibal’s deep breaths slowly matched by the man in his arms. Satisfied, the doctor moved back, intent on releasing him when a hand snaked around and caught his arm.

“No-” Will’s voice was high, frightened, and the sound broke Hannibal’s heart. Taking a deep breath, he wound himself back around the man in front of him, pulling him back until their bodies touched from chest to toes. Hannibal kissed the side of his neck, breathing in the scent of fear mingled with the musky sweetness he associated with Will. A small sound escaped the profiler’s throat, a breathy gasp that made it’s way straight to Hannibal’s aching cock. He moved his hips back just a little so Will didn’t have to bear the embarrassment of his excitement. _Don’t you dare. He has just had a nightmare and does not need your sexual interest._ Instead, he pulled the other man tighter to his chest, kissing the sweat soaked shoulder. They let several minutes pass unspoken before Will’s shaking breath escaped into the air.

“I’m sorry for that. I-I thought I had a handle on my nightmares.” His voice sounded tired, bitter as the words escaped into the darkness. Hannibal rested his face against Will’s shoulder, breathing him in. _There you are._

“Do not apologize. It is unnecessary,” he murmured. Will’s muscles tightened in his arms; the words breathed across his skin burned down his body like fire, raising every hair in its path as Hannibal continued. “Would you like to shower? It may help you fall back to sleep if you rinse the sweat from your skin.” Will nodded, reluctantly removing himself from Hannibal’s embrace as he slid from the bed. Hannibal moved towards the bathroom, Will trailing like a pale ghost, as he tried not to stare at the muscles in Hannibal’s back as he moved gracefully through the room. The doctor turned the water on, adjusting the temperature to their favored blistering heat before stepping back as Will pulled his soaked t shirt over his head. He tried very hard not to stare at the visible expanse of Will’s chest and stomach, failing miserably before he caught himself. 

“I will leave you to it.” He turned to exit the room, almost to the door when a single, clear word rang into the space, stopping him in his tracks.

“Stay.” Hannibal glanced back, meeting Will’s exhausted gaze as he pulled his boxers down, stepping from them before holding his hand out. Hannibal nodded and took the proffered hand, removing his own boxers as Will stepped under the spray, moaning with relief when the water hit his knotted muscles. He closed his eyes, letting the water work down his skin as he slowly relaxed. The glass door opened, admitting a brief respite from the heat as Hannibal moved in behind him before firmly closing the door. Will waited, his breathing tight, released in a sudden rush when the doctor’s hands descended upon his back. Will breathed in the familiar scent of Hannibal’s body soap as the doctor’s hands moved down his skin, massaging the tension from his shoulders as Will moaned, bracing himself against the wall with his hands. Hannibal swallowed hard; the position had been one of Will’s favorites when they had sex in the shower. He liked to take this way, pushing back onto the doctor’s thick cock with Hannibal’s hands wrapped around his hips to hold him in place. Shutting down the lurid thoughts, the doctor worked the soap along the sensitive skin covering Will’s spine, kneading the tension from the tender flesh as the profiler panted. Hannibal listened helplessly to his breathing, willing away his already aching erection. _This is not the time. He needs you, not your lust._

The doctor turned, acquiring more soap, building it into a lather so he could finish the job he set for himself. When he turned around, he started. Will had turned to face him, his eyes burning with need. His body glistened where the water had burned its path, drawing Hannibal’s attention helplessly along his chest and stomach, leading to the straining pink cock, already leaking with Will’s excitement. He groaned inwardly as Will took it into his hands, shuddering, before meeting his gaze. The soap dripped, forgotten from the doctor’s hands as his mind tried to reboot.

“Please. I need you.” The words seared through his soul, and without hesitation, Hannibal groaned and pressed Will to the cold tiles. Will hissed at the sudden chill on his back, the sound caught as Hannibal’s lips descended upon his own, the kiss hard, hot and a little desperate. Their mouths sealed, tongues flashing together as Hannibal reached between them, wrapping a hand around their straining erections. Both men gasped, their mouths coming apart as he used the remaining soap to stroke slowly, pressing their cocks together as he worked the moisture gathering to tighten his grip. Will moaned weakly, knowing he wasn’t going to last. It had been too long, he was too wound up, and was already a deep breath from begging Hannibal to make him come. Releasing his own length, Hannibal pressed the profiler’s back against the tiles and sank to his knees, letting the water rinse the rest of the soap as he gazed up into the shocking blue of Will’s eyes. Without a word, he slid the other man’s hands into his hair before bathing the head of his prick with his tongue, a wide, wet stripe of sensation. Will’s knees shook as he gripped the wet tresses, silently begging for more. Hannibal opened his mouth, gripping Will’s hips as he sank the profiler’s cock between his lips, moaning at the sensation as he began to suck. This was not about drawing out or teasing. This was about having, giving, and Hannibal made it clear that he wanted Will to come, and quickly. Surrendering himself into the other man’s tender care, Will braced himself against the tiles as his orgasm built at an alarming rate, his balls tightening with need. He barely had time to warn the man on his knees before he exploded, the cries in his throat wracking his entire body as Hannibal greedily drank down his passion. Will’s vision flared at each peak, his body trembling as the doctor sucked gently at the head of his cock, stroking his length with his hand as he worked him through the last of his tremors. 

As he stood, Hannibal pressed their foreheads together, their lips almost touching with each slow breath. Will shut the water off, reaching for towels before pulling the other man to him. They dried one another, the movements slow and languid with sleepy satisfaction. Naked, they crawled back between the sheets. Hannibal gathered the other man to his chest, wrapping his arms around Will’s back as he carded his hands through the damp curls he still couldn’t get enough of. Will’s hand came to rest on the doctor’s stomach as he yawned, the sound catching in his throat.

“You didn’t come,” he whispered, his eyes already drooping. Hannibal smiled and kissed his forehead.

“I did, as it happens,” he murmured against Will’s curls. The other man gazed at him, surprised. Hannibal smiled. “You were too busy to notice. I was, ah- stroking myself as I took you into my mouth. Your orgasm triggered mine.” Will smiled drowsily, his head falling back to the warm chest he was now using as a pillow.

“Good, but I still owe you one.” Hannibal stroked his back, his heart swelling. _If you keep loving me like you do in this moment, it is I that owes you._

“You already know it’s not a contest. Now sleep. You are exhausted.” Will nodded, his breaths already evening out.

“G’night, Hannibal. Love you.” The words slipped from his lips as easily as his breaths and settled heavily between them, but he couldn’t bring himself to be sorry. He felt the doctor’s chest expand, and the smile in his voice as he spoke softly in the darkness.

“Sleep well, darling. I love you, too.” Will drifted off, his dream of being strapped to the table in Hannibal’s basement already forgotten in the wake of the doctor’s love.


	16. Hope

_Hope is the thing with feathers_   
_That perches in the soul,_   
_And sings the tune without the words_   
_And never stops at all._   
_-Emily Dickinson_

Will surfaced from the dream with a sob, clutching the unfamiliar sheets as his body shook, tears sliding down his face with such a force that he began to panic as he tried to get himself under control. It had been a good dream, one of the few he’d managed since Hannibal had been gone. They had been laughing, kissing beneath a cloudless sky atop a hill somewhere, the ground damp and green beneath them. Will’s lips still burned from the kiss they shared, the taste of Hannibal’s lips still implanted in his memories. Waking from it’s wonder, he was left with the bitter reminder of what he and Hannibal had experienced during their brief relationship, the joy that filled their days, the comfort and safety of their nights, the loss bitter ashes on his tongue. _But now it’s gone. It's gone and it won’t ever come back._ Will took a deep, steadying breath, the scent of Hannibal’s aftershave pulled from somewhere in his memories, tugging at his heart like the gossamer strands of a web. He breathed in, gasping in the scent while he still remembered it, pulling it into his lungs as if he’d die without it. He kept his eyes squeezed tightly shut, his back to the cold emptiness of the other side of the bed. He knew without consciously thinking it that it would break him to turn over, only to find the other side of the bed empty. Hannibal was gone, and it was all his fault. 

When warm, soft hands came into contact with the sweat slicked skin of his back, the profiler’s eyes flew open, a broken, ragged breath dragged from his throat. A strong arm wove around his stomach pulling him back against a decidedly real chest, one so achingly familiar that fresh tears sprang from his eyes. _What-_

“Shhh, darling,” the sleep roughened voice from his dreams murmured. “It was a nightmare, nothing more.” The arm around his waist tightened, drawing him impossibly closer. Hardly daring to breathe, Will slowly turned in the embrace, finding warm maroon eyes watching him carefully in the low light of early morning. Will froze, uncomprehending what was happening, his throat contracting painfully as he tried to swallow. Slowly, the day before came back to him, filtering through his mind like a trickle of water through ice.

 _He’s not gone. It wasn’t a dream. He’s… he’s still here._ A gentle hand came up and wiped away the tears from his eyes, resting on the hot, damp skin of his cheek. The doctor shuffled forward, close enough for Will to breathe in the scent of his skin, memories from his dream surfacing in a rush. _It wasn’t a dream. It was him. I could sense him beside me, wanted it so badly to be true that my mind gave me what I wanted._ Hannibal kissed Will’s forehead his lips impossibly soft, moving to the very tip of his nose before finally placing a small, gentle kiss to the profiler’s mouth. Will trembled as their lips met, his mind fighting to come to grips with the reality of their contact. 

“It was a good dream,” he croaked, his voice made thick with tears. Hannibal smiled and ran a hand through the profiler’s unruly curls, massaging his scalp with long, slender fingers. Will’s very soul groaned at the contact, the gentle massage so good it sent sparks of pleasure cascading down his spine, leaving his skin achingly sensitive. He bit back a moan when Hannibal’s fingers brushed against the back of his neck, caressing in slow, loving circles. The shudder that skittered down his spine had nothing to do with the chill in the room. _He remembered. He still knows what I like, how good it feels when he touches me there._

“Indeed?” Hannibal murmured as his fingers continued to work their magic down the profiler’s skin. “Would you like to tell me about it?” Will shook his head, watching Hannibal’s pupils gently swell as he rolled the doctor onto his back. He leaned down and buried his nose against Hannibal’s throat, breathing in the familiar, spicy scent of his lover’s aftershave. The quiet groan of enjoyment that issued forth from low in the doctor’s throat eased through his senses, igniting his need. Immediately, he wanted more; more sounds of enjoyment, the flash of the beautiful maroon eyes in the peaks of passion. He needed it more than he needed to breathe. He could feel Hannibal’s cock thickening, the warm, hard flesh pressed into his belly. The delicious reality made him tremble as he reached once more for Hannibal’s lips. _Please. I need you._

“I think I’d rather show you,” he whispered, as he pressed Hannibal back to the sheets, his mouth winding his way slowly down his lover’s body.

In the bright, exhausting relief of his climax, something that felt akin to a thorn in Will’s chest loosened. Part of his heart that had still lay broken within him began to mend, the cracks filling with the cries of the man pinned beneath him, the taste of his skin and the string of nonsense that fell from his perfect lips in his ecstasy. The pain he had carried with him since Hannibal left eased, letting him breathe a little easier as Hannibal encircled him with his arms, hauling the profiler back against his chest. They fell back to sleep, hot skin pressed together as the fire burned low, the windows fogging over as the sun rose, bringing with it the biting cold of mid Autumn. 

***

When Will woke for the second time, the bed beside him was empty, and the light had shifted, filtering through the room in a quality of what must have been midday. Glancing around, he found no clock, but guessing by how his body felt, he estimated that he had been asleep for at least ten hours. Will stretched his arms over his head, arching against the soft cotton sheets as his back loosened, his spine realigning itself from his long slumber. He stood, getting his bearings for a moment. _We are really here, away from all of the horrors. He really saved me._ Will let the calm realization wash over him before standing to collect something to wear. He settled on a pair of comfortable grey jeans, pairing them with the blue sweater he had worn from the house the day before, telling himself he’d be able to throw it in the laundry with the second day of wearing it although he knew this was only partly the truth. I _want to see the light in Hannibal’s eyes when he sees it on me. I want him to tell me how much he missed seeing it._ He snorted, shaking his head as he made his way into the bathroom to dress.

Putting on clothes felt strange, as if his body needed to be more connected to the world around him and the cloth was creating a barrier to keep him from that much needed proximity. It left him feeling nervous and unbalanced. Trying to shake the feeling, he tended to his teeth and ran a brush through his curls, finally giving up hope that he could repair the damage done by sleeping on his hair while it was still wet. He thought about wetting it down completely, but realized in a rush that he couldn’t wait that long. He wanted to be with the man in the rooms below far more than he cared about how his hair looked. _It’s not like it matters_ , he thought wryly as he made his way down the stairs. _Hannibal has seen me in worse condition than this._

He made his way to the kitchen, pausing fractionally before taking the final few steps into the room. Will slowed, unsure of how Hannibal would react when he saw him. Their lovemaking in the early hours had seemed to restore some of the balance between them, but he knew there was still much to be said, things they still had to decide, broken bonds to repair. _None of it matters_ , he realized in a rush. _As long as we are together, the rest is just details. Some of it murderous, maybe, but details nonetheless._ Taking a deep breath, he rounded the corner, blinking into the bright light streaming through the windows , his eyes falling upon the man they so desperately sought. His heart almost stopped at the sight before him; any mental preparation he thought he had done before seeking Hannibal in the kitchen once again was wiped clean at the reality. _Jesus Christ, he’s perfect._

Hannibal must have had similar thoughts as his own when he dressed that morning; the jeans he wore were obviously old, and so worn in places they were almost white, the cuffs frayed from use. The sight of the loose threads by the doctor’s bare feet sent Will’s pulse skyrocketing, raising heat to the back of his neck. The rest of the outfit didn’t help calm him. Hannibal wore a simple white long sleeved shirt, the sleeves pushed up while he cooked. As if that wasn’t enough, when he turned to greet the profiler, Will’s mind went blank at the sight of the half row of buttons gracing Hannibal’s chest, the top three unbuttoned to showcase and enticing vee of skin, just visible above the buttons. His entire body seemed to groan at the thought of pressing his mouth to the warm, tanned skin, the sounds he knew Hannibal would make at the touch. The style was not one he’d ever seen Hannibal wear, but a Henley and jeans was an undeniably irresistible combination on the doctor’s lean profile. Will’s hunger for food vanished in the wake of the delectable sight before him, his mind trying to reboot as he met Hannibal’s eyes, realizing the man had been speaking. Clearing his throat of the awkward tightness that had invaded it in the wake of the desperate desire that flooded his entire being, Will took a seat at the bar, trying to regain his composure. 

“Hi Hannibal,” he murmured. Hannibal smiled, shaking his head fondly as he turned back to the stove, flipping the final pancake onto the teetering stack before him.

“Good morning, Will,” he replied over his shoulder. Picking up the platter, he placed it before the profiler before returning to the stove for the bacon that still sat on the cooking surface. “Did you sleep well the rest of the morning?” When no reply came, Hannibal turned, eyeing the profiler with obvious concern. Will looked shell shocked, his features set in subtle but discernible disbelief. Hannibal’s stomach eased in sudden understanding. _Ahh. He still doesn’t believe it’s real, that he’s here and not there, that we can touch once again. We haven’t had the time to heal just yet. Perhaps, we can remedy some of the reservations now._ Placing the plate before them, he walked around the counter, watching Will’s startlingly blue eyes widen unblinkingly. Taking the handsome, stubbled face in his hands, Hannibal placed a soft kiss on Will’s mouth, smiling as arms came up unconsciously to wrap him in an embrace. Hannibal’s hands wound their way into the delightfully messy curls of Will’s hair, tilting his face to seal their lips as their nerves settled. The world grew quiet around them as they kissed; the gentle contact of their mouths bringing their worlds back into alignment. Hannibal’s heart thudded pleasantly as their tongues flashed, the taste of toothpaste and the sweet, smoky flavor that was uniquely Will mingled on his tongue. He hissed a sharp breath through his teeth when the profiler’s fingers made their way under the hem of the thin shirt, caressing the skin of his stomach. Will swallowed the sound, stroking along Hannibal’s skin in slow, reverent sweeps. Time stretched on, pulling like taffy between them as they settled, talking without needing to speak. _I love you. I missed you. I need you._ Each thought was expressed with a press of lips, a flash of tongues as they coiled together, the rasp of clothing as it was pushed up and out of the way to reach the warm skin beneath. 

When the kiss finally broke, their food had cooled, but they took up seats at the bar without a thought to it. Nothing had ever tasted better than the simple fare before them, especially in the wake of their love, the calm knowledge that they were there and together again. For the very first time since they’d met, the dishes were left where they were, unimportant as they stood to make their way back to bed. They stayed where they were as day melted away into night around them, the hours passing in quiet conversation and gentle kisses, the press of skin on skin once they shed their clothing, the need to feel one another’s skin as necessary as breathing. They settled into kisses and touching, letting their hunger for skin ebb and flow, effortlessly giving eachother what they sorely needed; contact and communication, touch and comfort. They found themselves asleep often, a kind of dreamy drifting together that let their souls grow quiet around them, healing the hurt the past weeks had caused, the pain they could not yet discuss. The day helped it melt away instead, leaving both men feeling lighter, happier than they had been in ages.

Dinner was comprised of simple fare, meat and cheese, the last of the apples in the fridge cut into small wedges they could feed to eachother. They prepared their food naked, unwilling to let the inconvenience of clothes deter them from finding sustenance when they planned to eat in bed. It had begun to rain sometime in the late afternoon, the gentle sound pattering against the bedroom window when they returned with their meal. Hannibal carried a bottle of uncorked red wine and two glasses, and they settled together, leaning into the headboard to eat. Will crawled between Hannibal’s legs, balancing the tray in his lap as he leaned into the doctor’s chest, feeding him morsels over his shoulder. The silence was only broken by the small sounds of appreciation for their simple fare; the need to speak had passed sometime in the coming evening. Talking could come later. Right now, they had all that they needed in eachother.

***

Dawn pulled Will from sleep, feeling better and more well rested than he had in weeks. Hannibal still slumbered beside him. Will watched him for a moment, letting the other man’s breathing fill his heart with a pure, simple joy. Before long, he carefully lowered his feet to the floor to make his way to the bathroom. Turning on the shower, he glanced in the mirror, surprised to see how much he had changed in the last 24 hours. His eyes were brighter, sparkling with life and humor. His skin had lost the grey tinged exhaustion that had seemed to cling to him like a cloud of smoke, leaving behind the appearance of a man ten years younger than he was. The overall effect was startling. Shaking his head, he stepped into the water, groaning as the hot spray pelted down into the tight muscles along his neck with enough force to ease the tension left over from sleep. Will closed his eyes and enjoyed the simplicity of the sensations, his mind blissfully drifting between moments he had shared with Hannibal the day before. Their physical reconnection of skin on skin had done its job in helping to heal the trauma of Freddie’s actions, allowing them to put aside everything they still needed to discuss for a single day of perfect peace, although they still hadn’t made love, not yet. Even knowing they’d need to talk, Will felt prepared to face whatever Hannibal was going to say. He had lived the alternative, and had been in more pain than he thought possible from the loss of their relationship. He never wanted to live through it again. He wouldn’t survive a second time.

He couldn’t bring himself to be surprised when the door to the shower slid open, Hannibal entering the steam filled space as if he had been summoned by Will’s thoughts alone. The profiler’s heart glowed peacefully as they reached for one another, just to bring their skin into contact. Hannibal wrapped him in his arms, breathing in the scent of clean skin and damp hair as if it were the finest cologne in the world. Reaching for the shampoo, he lathered his hands, the room filling with the clean smell of lemongrass and tea tree as he reached for Will’s curls. They spent long minutes washing eachother’s hair, rinsing the suds down the drain as their mouths fell together unconsciously. There was nothing Will wanted more than what he had; standing beneath the warm spray of water with Hannibal’s mouth on his, kissing the life from him as they took care of eachother’s need to be clean. 

He reached for the body wash, switching positions with the handsome doctor so he could work the thick lather down his back. Hannibal’s muscles felt divine beneath his hands, flexing at the gentle massage as Will cleaned him. He ran his fingers over his favorite divots at the base of Hannibal’s spine, smiling against his skin as the other man’s breath hitched in his throat. The skin there was infinitely pleasing to stroke, his thumbs caressing the indents in gentle circles as he let his heart fill to bursting with the quiet sounds Hannibal was making as Will stroked along his skin. The muscles in his back flexed beneath his hands, sending a rippling wave of need clawing down his spine. Even with the perfect, shining moments of carnal bliss they had experienced two nights before, Will couldn’t get enough of the man beneath his hands. He craved Hannibal’s heartfelt moans of pleasure, the taste of his skin, the fine tremble that overtook his body right before his orgasm broke. _I need it, I need to know that I am the one who gives you these moments. I want us to be okay_. The sudden, rushing knowledge crashed into him, bringing with it a desperate need for the peace their lovemaking had always brought him. He reached for the body wash a second time, coating his hands with foam before reaching around to the front of Hannibal’s body, stroking across his chest and ribs. He could feel Hannibal’s nipples tighten beneath the light strokes of his fingers and he lingered, circling the sensitive skin. Hannibal’s breath released in tight moans, pulled from his lungs unconsciously in his pleasure. Heart pounding, Will trailed his fingers along Hannibal’s ribcage, stroking the skin beneath his open palms in comforting sweeps. _I want to feel you come undone. I need it._

Hannibal panted at full pelt, willing his pulse to calm as the deft fingers trailed slyly lower, working their way along the skin above the coarse hair surrounding his cock. He was painfully hard, his prick sensitive and throbbing with the frantic beat of his pulse, flushed a deep rose and leaking from the tip. He closed his eyes and spread his legs a little, pressing his palms to the wall in front of him. Will slicked his hands with more soap and gathered Hannibal’s cock into them, forming a tight ring around his length. Hannibal let out a gasping moan, rocking into the grip that held him. Will smiled against his shoulder and began to stroke in tight, rough pulls from root to tip, pausing to swipe a finger to gather the moisture from the spongy crown. Hannibal swallowed hard, trying to speak as Will pleasured him, giving him exactly what he so desperately needed. The words stuck in his throat, but the profiler seemed to understand the need clawing down his spine, sending arcs of pleasure through his body. _Please darling, my love. Make me come._

Will delivered. Every so often in his strokes, he gently rotated his wrist, the circle of his fist twisting along Hannibal’s length in a maddening spiral. They had discovered this sensation early in their relationship, and it never ceased to bring Hannibal to the brink within minutes. Sure enough, Will felt the man in his arms begin to tremble. He slowed, tightening his grip fractionally and began to twist his grip without mercy along Hannibal’s cock, working him over from root to tip as Hannibal tried to pant out a warning, but Will already knew, and continued the rhythmic torturous, movements that would push Hannibal over the edge. _That’s right. Take what you need from me. Take what I offer._ His orgasm broke in waves, cresting with each pull when Will reached the tip of his cock, calling out hoarsely in strings of incoherent curses and professions of love. The only discernible word was Will’s name, uttered with reverence amidst the nonsense spilling from his lover’s lips. Will worked his body until Hannibal went limp in his arms, legs giving out from the power of his orgasm. Lowering the doctor to the tiles, Will sat in between the other man’s legs, letting the water cascade across their skin to rinse away all evidence of Hannibal’s passion. They let their breathing slow, unconsciously falling into sync as they rested against the tiles of the shower.

“That trick with your hand will never cease to impress,” Hannibal murmured, nipping the profiler’s neck. Will laughed, closing his eyes as the water splashed down into his face. He relaxed further into the doctor’s arms, enjoying the heat radiating from his skin.

“You do seem to enjoy it,” he replied wryly. “It’s never failed to bring you quickly, either.” Hannibal smiled against Will’s neck, nipping against his jaw lightly.

“It isn’t my fault that you resort to trickery, darling,” he retorted. “Nobody in their right mind would be able to resist the pull of your hands, nor the erotic things you can do with them.” Kicking Will’s legs open, Hannibal’s lips found his throat, biting gently as his hands traveled slowly down the profiler’s body, stopping to rasp gently against his nipples, bringing the sensitive nubs to tight peaks. Will moaned, reaching forward to snag the body wash. Hannibal took the bottle with a smirk, working his hands into a lather before descending once again.

“Now, let’s see what I can do for you in return.”

***

“We are running low on food,” Hannibal said over his shoulder as he inspected the contents of the refrigerator. “We will need to make a trip into town to stock up for the other two days we will be here.” Will finished filling Hannibal’s coffee mug, handing it to the doctor as he joined him in front of the open door to the fridge. The shelves were rather barren, comprised of a few sad vegetables and a small selection of condiments, but definitely nothing worth cooking.

“Sure,” he replied amiably. “We can do that. Would you just like to grab something to eat in town? It will make it faster than cooking, cleaning and heading out to collect more food, especially since we already cleaned the kitchen this morning.” Hannibal nodded, taking a sip of the hot ambrosia Will had offered. After the episode in the shower, they had fallen back into bed, drifting for another hour while talking of small matters before getting dressed and making their way down the stairs. They both dressed in the clothing they had been wearing the day previously, as they hadn’t actually worn clothes after making their way upstairs after breakfast. The Henley was doing things to Will’s heart with the way it clung to Hannibal’s chest, contouring to his musculature enough to show off his physique in ways Will had never seen. The small, secretive smile Will caught on his lips made him realize Hannibal was perfectly aware of exactly how he felt about it. He had a feeling there would be a few more shirts added to the doctor’s wardrobe to match the one he currently donned, if only to send Will’s blood pressure into the stratosphere.

“That will be fine,” Hannibal replied, draining his cup before rinsing it in the sink. Will followed suit, making quick work of the coffeepot as well before meeting Hannibal at the door. Will pulled on his hiking boots and hunting jacket, watching with some amusement as the doctor struggled to lace the high topped hiking shoes that seemed well loved, if not often used.

“Here,” he said, kneeling before the doctor and taking the laces from his hands. “Let me help, or we will be here all morning.” Hannibal laughed, relinquishing his grip, allowing the profiler to take over. Will tightened the laces, expertly weaving them through the speed hooks before tying them in place. When he rose, the work completed, Hannibal met his warm gaze, his face closed and curiously unreadable. 

“You okay?” Will asked, concerned at the sudden change. Hannibal nodded, moving to open the door.

“I- yes. Of course. I just realized that we have the strangest tendency to take care of one another the most when we are struggling… or at our own times of distress.” Will’s heart sank as he realized what Hannibal was referring to. _The last time we saw one another before the rescue, he was helping me with my shoes because I was too distressed to do it myself. Jesus, the shit we do to eachother. We have to be better than this._ Reaching the door, he stilled Hannibal’s hand, taking the doctor’s face in his hands. The kiss they shared softened the memories of their mistakes that burned through them both. It felt as if it were made of hope, a light in the darkness of their memories, burning away things best left where they were.

“Hey,” Will murmured against his lover’s lips. “I know we still need to talk about… well, about everything that’s happened. But for today, let’s try a little healing instead. Some normalcy to bring things back in balance. We have tomorrow too, another full day before we have to leave. We can make our decisions about the future then.” Hannibal nodded, the shadows in his eyes chased back just a little.

“I- I would very much appreciate the time to reconnect,” he confessed. “I was not in the best state of mind the last time I resided within this home, and it seems to have affected my emotional state more than I thought it would. We can get what we need in town, and when we return, I’d love to show you around the rest of the property, if that suits. It will give us some time to get some fresh air.” Will nodded happily.

“That sounds perfect. I can only imagine how hard those few weeks were for you. I know I reacted in ways I probably shouldn’t have. I hope you’ll let me make it up to you.” Hannibal smiled, pulling the profiler into his arms, wrapping him tightly against his chest.

“As long as you keep looking at me like you’ve been doing all morning, I’m sure my wounds will heal without any residual damage being done.” Will laughed, pulling the door open to admit them into the cold, clear morning.

“Hey, it’s your own fault for wearing that shirt. Had I any idea you could look like _that_ in casual clothes, I would have hidden your suits ages ago.” Hannibal’s smile turned into a wry grin, his hands drifting down the front of the Henley. Will’s eyes followed the movement appreciatively, his gaze snagging on the enticing sliver of skin visible at the top three undone buttons. Hannibal’s face softened at the look, his heart beating wildly in his chest. _Even after an entire day spent at your side, regardless of our needs, all I want to do is take you upstairs and peel you out of those clothes. What I wouldn’t give to make love to you right at this moment._

“That look on your face…I could survive purely from that,” he said, pulling Will close enough to kiss. “But if you threaten my suits again,” he whispered against the profiler’s lips, “we may need to negotiate the terms of your apology.” Their lips met in the bright sunshine, tasting of more happiness than either man thought himself capable. _Perhaps_ , Hannibal thought as his hands found their way into Will’s curls, _we really will come out of this better than we were before._ _Perhaps the pain was necessary for the pleasure to be truly ours._

***

“Hannibal! Fantastic to see ya again, sir!” The high, sweet voice of the waitress behind the counter echoed through the town’s only diner, quaintly named the Black Bear Cafe. Hannibal had only smiled as they entered, ensuring Will the food was the best they’d find anywhere in the surrounding area. Will had agreed; he trusted Hannibal’s expertise in such matters. What he hadn’t expected was the reaction of the townsfolk when they’d entered, nor had Hannibal seen fit to mention it to him. The doctor’s eyes glittered with mirth as he nodded to the slim hipped woman, her smile growing wider as she blushed prettily.

“Hello, Miranda. It’s good to see you again as well. How is your father holding since he received his diagnosis?” The girl's blush deepened. 

“Dad’s doing just fine, thanks for remembering,” she said, a little out of breath. “Do you mind seating yourselves? I have a large order in the window and the help called out this morning with the flu. Your usual spot should be open.” She gestured to the row of booths to the left, indicating the menus sitting atop what served as a hostess stand, the hulking bear carved from a single source of wood. Will admired the craftsmanship for a moment, taking in the lines in the in the grain, the delicate details on the bear’s face. _Someone loved this piece, took the time to make it, perfect it. It’s beautiful._ Hannibal nodded and thanked her, picking up two menus before making his way through the restaurant. Will trailed behind him as the doctor lead the way to the furthest booth, removing his jacket as he went. Will followed suit, taking a seat on the soft brown leather bench across from his lover. Hannibal smiled and handed him a laminated menu, both sides filled with selections with a line caricature of a friendly looking black bear emblazoned across the sheet. “Best Pancakes in the State!” the breakfast selection boasted, the bright font bringing a smile to the profiler’s lips. Hannibal watched him fondly over the top of his menu, unable to believe that the last time he had been here, they hadn’t yet known one another. _Nor was I the man I needed to be to keep him._

“Seems like the townspeople know you pretty well,” Will said conversationally as he looked over the menu, happy to see they used a real roast for their caffeine.. _Coffee. Definitely coffee._

“As it happens, most of them do,” Hannibal replied. “Especially the men.” Will raised an eyebrow, meeting Hannibal’s gaze as the doctor flushed, his cheeks staining a bright pink. 

“The…”

“It’s not like you’re trying to make it sound,” Hannibal replied with a laugh. “The lake I mentioned on the property. They often come to fish, as I keep it stocked for the town’s use. Several have taken it upon themselves to ensure my home goes undisturbed in my absence in exchange.” Will smiled, his eyes sparkling as they returned to perusing the laminate. 

“How kind of you,” he said, his heart beating warmly in his chest at the thought. “Do you fish the lake yourself?” The man across from him shook his head.

“It has never been a pleasure of mine,” he murmured. “However, the lake should not go without being used, so when the native species within it started to dwindle, I took the liberty of supplying it with others. Many families around here go through lean times, and having an alternative source of food eases their minds.” Will opened his mouth to reply, but as he began to speak, their waitress appeared at their side, tucking a dark strand of hair behind her ear.

“So good to see you in town, Doctor!” she gushed. “It seems like it’s been ages.” Glancing in his direction, she eyed Will curiously, giving him a general once over before retrieving her pad. “Your friend here is a refreshing face to see as well. I was worried you were still spending all of your time alone.” Will snorted, earning himself another amused glance. Hannibal cleared this throat, a neutral smile spreading across his features.

“Quite the opposite in fact,” he murmured. “Miranda, this is my partner, Will Graham. Will, this is Miranda Erikson, daughter of Robert Erikson, the owner of this establishment.” Miranda’s widened, but she smiled warmly and nodded in Will’s direction.

“Oh my god, your partner! That is absolutely fantastic. Pleased to meet you, Will.” She turned back to Hannibal, giving him a brief, but emotional hug. “I’m so happy you’ve found someone to make you happy, Hannibal. Papa will be sorry he wasn’t here to meet him.” 

“How has he been feeling?” Her eyes clouded over for a moment, a brief flash of pain lacing through them before she came back to herself.

“He’s fine, just can’t get out and about as he once could, you know? He’s been trying to make it down to the lake for the past couple of weeks, but he just hasn’t been feeling up to it.” Hannibal nodded sympathetically.

“Has he been taking his medication as directed?” Miranda rolled her eyes, but nodded.

“Under force, but yes. It seems to be helping somewhat, too, so that keeps him on it.”

“Well, if there is anything I can do to help, please let me know.” The young woman grinned, giving Hannibal another brief hug.

“I’ll let him know, and that you’re in town.” Straightening up, she glanced at them both, her pen poised. “Now, what can I getcha?”

“I will take my usual, please. Bacon on the side and a cup of your delightful coffee, if you’d be so kind,” Hannibal responded. Miranda nodded, scribbling Hannibal’s order down on her pad before turning to Will. 

“And you, handsome?” Will smiled, glancing at his menu once more.

“How good are these pancakes you’re boasting?” Miranda laughed.

“Best you’ve ever eaten, I promise. Unless,” she continued, eyeing Hannibal, “You’ve already eaten the doctor’s. The recipe is his, if you can believe that. Came in years ago when he first purchased his home, ordered them, then marched back into the kitchen when dad still used to work the line. They bickered for a while before Hannibal taught him a thing or two. Dad took his advice, and business boomed.” Will’s heart squeezed in his chest, sudden tears threatening at the corners of his eyes.

 _How is it that you can care about such simple things, people that have nothing to do with you directly, yet you take the time to show them such kindness?_ Turning back to Miranda, he handed her his menu.

“I’ll definitely have to have the pancakes, then. Bacon on the side, please. And coffee, too. Thank you so much.” Miranda took the menu and wrote down his order, her lips moving as she scribbled.

“Got it. Food will be just a bit. I’ll be right back with your coffees.” She bustled away, sleek brown ponytail bouncing as she moved through the restaurant. Will watched her go before turning back to Hannibal, who was watching him with a carefully neutral expression.

“So… you’ve?” Hannibal sighed, lowering his eyes to the table.

“I came here, purchased my home and settled here for a while when the FBI originally narrowed the search for the Ripper. I knew that if I remained where I was, there was enough evidence against me to pursue me as a person of interest, and I didn’t want that, so I erased what remained of my life and disappeared. I found some solitude for a time, and immersed myself in small town living.” Will listened, fascinated. This was a side of the elegant man before him he would have never suspected, a man who would become ingrained into a place so unlike his usual surroundings that he helped his neighbors as if he’d lived there all his life.

“I grew to truly care for many of the families here, and did what I could to ease the burden life had dealt them,” Hannibal continued. “Small things like pancakes, and teaching the grocer how to butcher his own meat so folks didn’t have to go to the city or hire someone to come to them. They became independent from any other town, thriving together in a way they never had before. It was… satisfying to sustain life when my activities that had done the opposite threatened to destroy my life as I knew it.” He toyed with the edge of his napkin, his eyes distant. Will reached for his hand, brushing fingers gently over his skin before entwining their fingers.

“You’re kind,” he said, his voice shaking. “You’ve always had a side that was capable of kindness, balancing out your cruelty. I understand better now, I think. It’s heartwarming to see this part of you, even though, or especially because I know of your darker half.” Hannibal smiled thinly, meeting the warm blue eyes gazing at him with fondness.

“You know of both sides of my nature, to be true. But I fear that in this place, you will choose to try and forget the other side of who I am, and I beg you not to do so. While acts of violence are rare from me these days, I am not without my urges, and I cannot control my nature, not the way I know you’re going to ask me to.” Will held his eyes, fingers gently rubbing against his knuckles as he thought back on the miserable time he’d spent, trying to deny how much he wanted to forgive his lover and accept the darkest parts of him. He would have done it in a heartbeat then, and in the wake of what he was witnessing in this place, it only made it easier.

“We aren’t going to talk about this today, remember?” he murmured. Hannibal nodded, but his eyes stayed guarded and distant. Will brought the hand he was holding to his lips, brushing across Hannibal’s skin before releasing him. “Have a little faith in me, okay? Let’s enjoy today, and tomorrow, we can talk about it.” Miranda returned with their coffee, setting their cups down before turning to retrieve their food. 

“I am not certain I can give you what you want,” Hannibal said, his voice heavy. Will smiled into his cup as he took a long sip, compiling his thoughts.

“I have what I want,” he replied, setting his cup down. “I won’t give it up, not for anything. Everything else… we will figure it out together.” Just then, their food arrived and the conversation turned to lighter things as they ate. Will groaned in appreciation upon his first bite of the food set in front of them, much to Hannibal’s amusement. The pancakes were even better than he expected.

***

“I think we have enough food here to feed an army,” Will called through the open door. Hannibal followed, carrying the rest of the groceries they had purchased, closing the door with his foot behind him. 

“I believe Benjamin and Wendy have taken a liking to you,” he huffed, placing the bags on the counter. “They’re certainly generous, but not _this_ generous.” Will laughed and began to unpack their bags, making a mental checklist of the things they’d be able to take with them when they left the cabin. Hannibal had warned him that Benjamin was the hugging sort when meeting new people, but the crushing embrace he received still rang through his body where his ribs ached. They had left the grocer with several new cuts of game, as well as a large roast for which Hannibal claimed he already had plans. True to his word, the doctor began to take out the equipment he’d need to start their meal for the evening, working around the profiler’s efforts to find places for their bounty.

“It definitely wasn’t me,” Will retorted, placing their bananas on the counter next to the bread box. “My ribs feel bruised, though.” Hannibal laughed, digging through a drawer for the spatula he kept towards the back.

“You charmed them as you charm me, darling. They welcomed you as if you were a long lost son. It was very affecting to witness.” Will rolled his eyes, moving out of Hannibal’s way as he threw the rest of their bags in the trash. Eyeing the ingredients on the counter, he mentally ran through his list of possibilities, settling on the most likely dish. 

“Bourguingnon?” Hannibal smiled, nodding.

“A favorite of mine with beef this fresh.” Pausing, he raised his eyes from his task. “I don’t suppose you’d care to sous chef?” Will’s heart thudded hard, warmth flooding through his body at the thought. It had been ages since they’d cooked together, and the meals they had made had been amongst his favorites, not to mention the amazing time they had together when they cooked. _Another step towards normalcy. God yes._

“Sure,” he managed, sliding off the stool to round the corner to the sink. He washed his hands carefully, starting when a swath of white fabric fell over his front. 

“It’s your apron,” Hannibal verified. “I- I couldn’t bear to be here without something to remind me of…” Will swallowed hard, tears burning in his eyes. _Christ I’m a mess. I’m going to be a blubbering fool by the end of the night at this rate._

“Of home?” he asked gently. Hannibal nodded silently, tying the apron around the profiler’s waist with practiced ease.

“Of you,” he replied quietly. “You are home, and everywhere I looked, from the landscape to the chair on my front porch, I saw you superimposed, as if this was your space and not mine. I found you here, in a place we had never shared, because I couldn’t bear to let you go.” The tears that had been threatening all day broke, spilling down Will’s cheeks, his throat burning with the need to openly weep. Hannibal wrapped his arms around the profiler’s waist, burying his face into Will’s neck as he held him. Will could feel him shaking and realized in a rush that Hannibal was also crying, soft and silent tears filled with hope and longing, the realization that what they had been was gone. What remained was yet to be seen, but as they stood amidst the makings of another meal, wrapped around eachother as if to anchor one another to the world around them, Will understood that whatever they would be, it would be stronger, better than anything that had come before.

For the first time, he was utterly unafraid of what the future had to hold. Moving back fractionally, he pressed his lips to the man before him, their past burning away in the wake of their tears. When they broke apart and picked up their knives, Will realized that the past was truly that, and what was ahead of them would contain all the best yet to come.


End file.
